


The Bolton Girl

by DuschaPendragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 42
Words: 64,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1515167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuschaPendragon/pseuds/DuschaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leila Bolton, a head strong girl who tends to speak before thinking and true born daughter of Roose Bolton, returns to the Dreadfort with her father for a break from campaigning with Robb Stark's army, she finds her home different to how she had left it. Her fathers bastard, Ramsay Snow, has been in charge in their absence. Will she be able to handle this barbarian that calls himself her brother?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our Blades Are Sharp

The familiar stone walls casted a dominating shadow across the horizon. Anyone who didn’t know those walls would have an immediate urge to turn and run in the opposite direction. But I didn’t. I had never feared this place. It had always been my home, even if we had been away for months, the Dreadfort would always be my home. Today, I had the honour of riding beside my father, even he couldn’t hide his pleasure at seeing those familiar walls. The usually stern mask of Roose Bolton’s face had fallen away, and the corners of his mouth creased into a smile; it was only for a few seconds, then the mask was back on again. I too no longer felt the need to smile. Yes, the Dreadfort was only a few miles ahead of us, but what lay beyond those walls was unknown. Since my father had left the castle to join Robb Stark in his rebellion, he had named his bastard son, Ramsay Snow as lord of the the Dreadfort. It should have fallen to me to look after the castle, but Ramsay was older and a boy. Father had said that I had been too young to handle such responsibilities. Just because my father had left the Dreadfort in Ramsay’s hands did not mean that he was fond of the boy. He had reminded me of the fate of my poor brother Domeric and had originally refused to take me back to the Dreadfort with him while Robb Stark’s army rested. But I had insisted on coming home. I was no longer sure of my decision. As we neared the entrance to the castle I spotted several of our banners displayed on the walls of the castle; the flayed man twisting in the breeze. I wondered if Ramsay had flayed anyone in our absence. I had never met the man, but I wouldn’t put it past him.  
  
He was waiting for us as we rode in. His face set in the same stern expression as my fathers. It irritated me that he should have anything of my fathers. His eyes too marked that we shared blood. They were a cold ghost grey. They followed my father as he rode in, and then they flickered to me. For a moment I thought I saw a flash of hatred and jealousy in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly that I wondered if it had ever been. He smiled at me; I suppose it was meant to be a warm smile, but I could find nothing that I trusted in it. I didn’t smile back. I had no reason to. He was lucky that I even held his gaze. He may hold the Dreadfort, but he is no more than a bastard. And when I came of an age old enough, Dreadfort would surely come to me. We dismounted our horses. A scrawny stable lad that moved with surprising grace took my mare from my grasp. I hurried to stand slightly behind my father, more to show Ramsay that I was Roose Bolton’s true born daughter, not that I was in any way afraid of him. My father’s expression returned to Ramsay’s face. “Father.” He said, bowing his head slightly. Civil. Far to civil. “Ramsay,” My father replied coldly “This is my daughter, Leila.” He said turning to me. I stepped out from behind my father and looked Ramsay square in the face. There was no way that this bastard, no matter what I had heard he’d done, would intimidate me. I was a Bolton and our blades were always sharp. Before I could draw back, Ramsay had grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. I refrained from allowing the revulsion to show on my face. He held my hand for a few moments and said “My dear sister, I welcome you to the Dreadfort.”  
“There is no need for you to welcome me.” I snapped, snatching my hand back “The Dreadfort is _my_ home, I am always welcome.” I finished, tilting my chin up. Ramsay continued to smile smugly when my father grabbed my shoulder “That’s enough Leila. Forgive her, she is tired. We had a long ride. Perhaps you could find someone to take her to her chambers?” He asked Ramsay, although it was more of an instruction than a question. _ _  
__“Of course father.” Ramsay said as he watched my father walk away. “Myranda!” He called, turning his eyes back to me. A woman with long dark hair and pale skin danced to his side “Yes my lord?” She asked sweetly. I looked her up and down in disgust. “See to it that my sister finds her rooms.” He ordered, his eyes never leaving mine.  
“Yes milord.” Myranda said again, she looked at me curiously up and down, “this way milady.” She said. That angered me again. “I know where my rooms are and I know where to find them. In case you have forgotten Ramsay, _I_ grew up here.” I snapped, relishing his face drop slightly when I reminded him of his heritage. But the sickening grin soon came back. “Ah yes, of course you grew up here. With your brother,” It was his turn to relish my reaction now. He stepped a little closer and brought his lips down to my ear, his spittle landed in my hair. “Domeric wasn’t it? Tragic story. He was far too young. You look a lot like him, shame you do not share his kindness. Perhaps we have more in common than you think, sister?” I managed to keep hold of myself. I would not give this monster the satisfaction of seeing me cry, or attempt to fight back. I gathered my dignity and walked, straight-backed, past him. I could feel his cold eyes on my back. As soon as we were inside the entrance hall, I turned on Myranda. “You may leave me, I will not be served on by a whore.” I spat at her. She just glared at me with her black eyes. “I will give you time to truly settle milady. Later you will realise that being served on by one of your brothers’ whores may be a way to… help you.” Her eyes smiled wickedly. I was not going to lose this battle too. “One last thing, if you are to be in my service,” I said smiling, I moved a little closer, “refer to Ramsay as my brother again, and I’ll slit open that pretty white neck of yours.” I finished, once again relishing the reaction. I turned to go up the stairs, but stopped and finished with “Remember Myranda, I am a Bolton. And our blades are sharp.”


	2. Unexpected Inhabitants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila's glad to be home. But she finds that not everything is the same as when she'd left.

Despite its inhabitants, the castle hadn’t changed. It was still cold and a breeze wound freely around the rooms. Many guests had complained about the draft, but I would prefer to freeze to death than burn. Before I could go to my chambers, I knew that there was somewhere I needed to visit. I hurried to the East wing of the Castle. The breeze grew stronger here. There were more cobwebs and a damp smell clung to the air; no one hardly ever ventured here. There were no candles, but I knew my way enough to find the right room in the dark. With a hard thrust, the heavy studded door swung open and I fell, ungracefully, into the room. It seems some things never changed. I looked around the room. It seemed I was wrong; everything in Domeric’s room was in disarray. His belongings were scattered over the floor, scratches were indented in the walls and an uncountable number of dog shit littered the floor. The stench of it filled the air. I choked back my tears, threw my hand to cover my nose and turned to run from the room. A sound made me stop. Coming from Domeric’s bedchamber was a scratching sound; too big for mice. I dodged the piles of shit and grabbed hold of the doorknob. “One…two…three” I flung open the door. A mass of stinking hairy bodies pinned me to the ground. The dogs ripped, tore, scratched and snapped at me as I struggled beneath their weight. I managed to block them out in time to think of a strategy. If these dogs wanted to fight like dogs, so be it. Blinded by rage, I fought back taking out all of the anger and frustration on the animals. If they were heavy, I didn’t feel any weight. I grabbed the one that was on top of me by the neck and kicked it off across the room. Several of the others also hit the walls. When enough of them were distracted, I fled for the door. One of them grabbed me by the ankle and tried to pull me back. It was then that I recalled the dagger that I had hidden in my boot. I reached back and tore it from the leather, flipped over to face the dog. I struck it with the blade hard across the face. It yelped and howled in pain. Blood sprayed from the wound and covered my body. In my second attempt to reach the door I made it, and slammed it in the other dogs’ faces. I kept running, wanting to be as far away from the room as possible. I didn’t know where to go. Whenever I had been upset in the past, I would've run to Domeric’s room. Even after his death, I would just stand in there and inhale the smell. But even the smell had been taken away by the stench of the dogs. Ramsay’s dogs. They must have been! Father had told me about Ramsay’s hunting habits. No wonder the dogs seemed so desperate to taste my flesh. And they were living in my brother’s room! Even Father wouldn't stand for that. I began to run again, this time towards the west of the castle. I was only seconds away from reaching Father’s chambers when I ran headfirst into a rather large lady carrying sheets. “Alerie!” I exclaimed, picking myself up from the floor.  
“Leila, what on earth are you doing, you frightened the life out of me! Why are you all covered in blood? You’d better not have dirtied these sheets…” She fretted.  
“Never mind the sheets. It’s good to see you, how are you?” I began. And then I looked at her properly. Her once plump face had hollowed, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was bleached white and her eyes never rested on one spot for long. She looked as if she were in a state of constant fear. “Oh no. Oh no!” She cried as she spotted marks of blood on the sheets. She collapsed to the ground, trying to hold back tears. I had never had to comfort Alerie before; I felt helpless as I looked down on her. I knew I had to at least try and comfort her, as she had done for me after all these years. I crouched down beside her and awkwardly patted her on the back. “It’s alright, they’re just sheets!” I exclaimed.  
“No, you don’t understand, Master Ramsay wanted everything to be perfect, he said he’d punish anyone who ruined your homecoming milady!” She wailed.  
“Well we are home now. No harm will come to you I promise.” I said.  
“But when you leave…”  
“I shall not leave my people in the hands of someone they fret over dirty sheets for!”  
“You must milady, you cannot stay here. You have to leave.” She whispered, meeting my gaze with fearful and crazed eyes.  
“The Dreadfort is my home, I may stay as long as I wish.” I cried, standing suddenly, angered by the maids words.  
“Yes, yes. Forgive me milady, please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you. Please don’t hurt me please!” She cried, cowering away from me, her eyes clamped shut. She tried to use her hands to shelter herself from me. It was then that I noticed her hands. Three of her fingers had been flayed, stripped of their skin, what was left of the finger was red as blood, crusted and blistering. It was then that I understood her fear of me. “I’m not going to hurt you. I swear on my life. I need you to draw me a bath. Go and sort out those sheets, if anyone so much as comments on the blood stains, send them to me; you will not be harmed while I am here Alerie. You raised me through childhood, and now it is my turn to care for you.” I said sternly, acting the dignified lady. She stood and wiped away her tears, nodded and scurried off; clutching the sheets to her bosom. I watched her until her large frame disappeared around a corner, then I continued on the hunt for my father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's a bit slow to start, and not particularly gory. Am trying to come up with some violent ideas, any suggestion in the comments would be greatly appreciated.


	3. A Macabre Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila is forced to watch her fathers wrath come down through her own doing, and then makes an unexpected acquaintance.

I found him in his chambers being leeched. The maester had just begun to remove the three leeches that were taking their fill from his blood. “Father, I need to speak with you, in private.” I declared, shooting a look at the maester, who hurried to remove the leeches. My father nodded and the maester hurried out of the room. “Come sit Leila.” My father ordered, but gently; the same voice he would always use when we were in private. He poured himself a goblet of wine and I sat down opposite him. “Now tell me what is troubling you.” He side. He knew. Father always knew. “Ramsay is abusing our servants!” I exclaimed. He gave me a look that told me he wouldn’t put up with drama. “Leila, don’t tell me you’ve never seen me hit a serving wench before.” He joked.  
“He doesn’t just hit them, he’s flayed Alerie’s fingers.” I said, trying to control my emotions.  
“Who the fuck is Alerie?” He asked after swallowing a mouthful of wine. I just gave him a look. He laughed at me and said “Look Leila, I’ve warned you of what Ramsay does. Do not get involved. I need you to stay out of his way, I will not see you be harmed by him but I can only help you so far.” Anger and frustration boiled inside of me. Well, perhaps he would do something about this. “There is something else.” I began, father lent back in his chair and settled his goblet on the small table next to him. “Ramsay is keeping his hunting dogs in Domeric’s old chambers.” I announced, tilting my chin up. My father slowly lifted his gaze from the goblet, his eyes focusing on me. “What did you say?” He asked. His voice was low. Dangerously low. “I think you heard father.” My eyes narrowed; searching his expressionless face. He held my gaze; checking for the hint of a lie. When he found none, he leapt up and marched from the room. I watched him go. There was no need for me to follow him. “Ramsay! RAMSAY!” I could hear my father cursing even when he had reached the lower floors. I sat back in my chair, a smile crawled across my face.

The dogs were dragged from the room. I stood beside my father as the barking became louder and louder. They were dragged out into the cold sunlight on rough chains that bit into their necks. I pitied them; they had only done what they were made to do by their master, they had had no say in their fate. Nevertheless, my father wanted Ramsay to pay for the disrespect he had caused my brother- my true brother. The dogs were paraded around the stone court for all the Dreadfort’s inhabitants to see. It was like some macabre parade. Ramsay was forced to look on as, one by one, the dogs were led to the executioner. The barks turned into yelps of fear and pain as they watched their companions be slaughtered. I did not look away. This had been all my doing. I had earned this punishment; in fact it ought to be me who swung the axe. Once the final creature was slain and silence fell in the courtyard, Ramsay looked over at me. I couldn’t make sense of his expression. I had expected it to be hatred, a silent accusation. But it was not. He continued with his sadistic grin; he leered at me as though, in that corrupt and twisted mind of his, he was plotting something. No doubt my punishment. It was likely to be worse than death. The look in those cold grey eyes made me feel jealous of the dogs who had been slaughtered. That look told me “This has only just begun.” I was lost in my thoughts when Ramsay’s cool voice ran out across the courtyard “Such a pity. They had been fine hunting dogs. Luckily I have others, although they are in need of training!” He glanced around quickly at the cowering inhabitants. My father watched him go with a mixture of despair and disgust. He then turned on his heel and retreated in the opposite direction to Ramsay. I hurried after him, wanting to be away from the accusations in the dead dogs’ eyes as they were loaded onto the butcher’s wagon. “Was that really necessary father? The dogs only did what Ramsay had trained them to do. Surely it should be he who is punished?” I said, my voice screaming a guilty conscience.  
“Yes it was Ramsay’s fault, of course it was. But those dogs had gotten a taste of human flesh.” He glanced down at my arm that bore an open wound made by one of the hounds. “Ramsay will never change. He has always been…” He paused, trying to find the right word. I tried to help “Violent, evil, sadistic, barbaric, monstrous?”  
“Yes.” There was no point denying it. My father looked me up and down; I was still spattered with blood. Father had not hesitated after he had found Ramsay. “Go wash and change. Dinner will be ready in an hour.” He ordered, before marching off to his chambers. I stood for a second before turning to the South tower. Alerie was waiting for me with the bath I’d ordered. It was now lukewarm, but I cared little. The water relaxed me and I sunk deep into its depths; trying to drown out the guilt. I vaguely remember hearing Alerie mutter something about drying sheets. When I resurfaced she had gone, and in her place was the scrawny boy who had taken my horse from me earlier. He looked at me in shock as I sat in the tub. At first I too was shocked, then embarrassed when the realisation hit me that I was completely naked. The boy wasn’t sure where to look. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. “I… er… I…” He began, his eyes clamped shut “Alerie told me she needed more hot water.” He blurted out, holding up a bucket of steaming water. I ducked deeper under the water and tried to cover myself the best that I could. He opened one eye to check it was safe before hurrying forward. As he neared the tub, he slipped on a wet patch of floor. The pale of hot water landed in the bath and I leapt up to avoid being hit by the heavy wooden bucket. I shuffled backwards in the tub, only to hit the side when I’d least expected it. I toppled backwards and fell, ungracefully, right on my arse on the cold stone floor, the water sloshing over the sides, making the floor even more slippery. Seeing that I may have injured myself, the boy picked himself up and tried to run to my aid, only to slip and fall right on top of my naked body. We stopped for a moment not quite sure what to do. He refused to let his gaze meet mine. After a moments silence, my laughter spluttered out of me as I recalled the boys attempted to heroically come to my rescue. He too began to laugh, a little awkwardly at first, and then harder. We were still laughing, with him on top of me, when Alerie bustled in. Her face dropped in horror at the scene. The boy’s expression turned to terror as he picked himself up off of me. “Madam allow me to…” He was cut off by Alerie’s screams. She hurled herself towards him and began to repeatedly beat him with the drying sheets screaming “You perverted little cunt! Get out! GET OUT!” The boy slipped again as he ran out of the door. I continued to laugh as I stepped back into the tub, Alerie continued to yell out curses at the boy who was, undoubtedly, as far away from the room as he could get.


	4. A Bolton's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila gets an unexpected lesson from her father, but will she learn quick enough?

I dressed in a brown leather jerkin that Alerie laced up tightly at the back. I also wore some tight black trousers and long soft leather boots. I hated dresses; they had always gotten in my way and I would always end up tripping over the hem. My father had only been only too eager to agree to my demands. Silk was expensive and hard to find whereas leather was easily stripped off of a carcass. I had allowed Myranda to braid a few locks of my hair, entwining green ribbon amongst the strands. The rest of the unruly brown locks were left to freely tumble down my back. Myranda picked up a brush to attempt to tame the mess but I waved her away; there was no way my father or Ramsay would have gone out of their way to look their best. I turned in silence and nodded as the two maids stood aside to let me past.

They followed me down to the main hall and began to help serving whilst I made my way to the high table that watched over the rest of the diners. My father sat in the middle on his throne-like chair with Ramsay on his left. An empty chair stood on his right side waiting for me. I sat down without being acknowledged; the others had already begun eating. I ate my food half-heartedly, observing those around me. Next to me was the maester, beyond him were my father’s men who had stayed at Dreadfort in his absence. Before he’d left, he had ordered them to serve Ramsay, but report back to him. I had never really associated with them. They were brutal and sadistic and had not hesitated to agree to serve Ramsay. Their gazes were fixed on the diners seated below us, more specifically, the women, several of whom were answering their stares with seductive smiles. My stomach lurched. This is not how it had been before; in my presence, father had ensured that the men be subtle and discreet until I had retired. That seemed to have been lost. The men ate noisily, pinched and grabbed as maids passed them. The world was a blur of bawdy jokes. “Lady Leila?” A voice broke through and I looked around in shock. I somehow managed to knock my goblet that had been filled with wine onto the stone floor. The room stopped and the sound of metal on stone echoed into the far corners of the hall. Everyone stared wide eyed at me. I looked over at father and Ramsay. Having all eyes on me made me begun to feel unwell. I reached down to grab the goblet only to grab a hand instead; I looked up and into a pair of two bright green eyes. The boy stared at me, his cheeks beginning to flush with embarrassment as he recalled our meeting. “Carry on!” My father ordered the diners and I turned away from the boy, placing the goblet carefully back on the table. “Excuse me if you will father. I am not feeling well.” I said, not waiting for an answer. I nodded to Alerie, indicating that she should follow me. She did so without hesitation. “At last, we can begin to enjoy ourselves!” Ramsay’s voice bounced off the walls, I could hear the sadistic glee in his voice. “Sleep well sister!” He called to me as I neared the end of the hall. I turned, my face set as though it had not bothered me when he’d called me sister. I glanced quickly around the hall, silencing the men and women with my cold eyes. “Enjoy the rest of your meal. Bastard.” A gasp went up at my blunt words. I saw my father grasp Ramsay’s wrist with a fist of iron as they watched me leave. We left the hall, Alerie walking close behind me. “Are you sure that was wise milady?” She asked nervously.  
“No.” I admitted “But it felt great!” I breathed. And for the first time since I had returned, I heard Alerie laugh.

I was sat at the window, the sickness swiftly leaving with the cool night air, when there was a knock at the door. A stern man with a severe and unmoving face waited on the other side. He worked for my father. “Lady Leila, your father has requested your presence in his chambers. He has urgent business to discuss with you.” He said bluntly, before turning on his heel and disappearing down the corridor. Still clad in the clothes that I had worn for dinner, I made my way to father’s chambers. I pushed open the door and peered in. He was sitting at his desk; a fresh lit candle sat beside a pile of parchment papers. That was a sure sign that he planned on working throughout the night. “You wished to see me father?” I asked, stepping into the room.  
“Yes.” He replied half-heartedly, his mind more focused on the letter he was reading. I poured myself a cup of wine and sat down beside the fire that burned in the hearth. “Who’s that letter from?” I asked, taking a sip of wine. It tasted sweet and made my tongue tingle. “Walder Frey.” He said, still not looking up.  
“Which one?” I joked. He gave me a look that told me he was only in the mood for sensible questions. “Why is he writing to you? If he has any business with King Robb then surely he would write to him? Not one of his banner men.” I continued.  
“It is nothing.” He stated, finally casting the letter aside and focusing on me. We sat in silence. He continued to look at me and I stared into the flames, my eyes watering from the heat. “Your words tonight were reckless daughter.” He said. I knew he was disappointed when he called me daughter. “I know, forgive me father, I just dislike him calling me sister. Can’t you explain…”  
“I shall explain nothing. You must fight your own battles. I cannot be here to fight them for you.” He linked his fingers.  
“What do you mean?” I asked.  
“King Robb is calling us back again.”  
“We are going back to war, we’ve only just got here!” I exclaimed.  
“I will be going back to war. You must remain here.” He commanded. I fell silent, dumbstruck. “What?” I gasped.  
“You will remain here at Dreadfort. The tides are turning, I cannot have you mixed up in it.”  
“So instead you will abandon me here? Surely staying here with Ramsay is far more dangerous than going to war.” I raised my voice and stood up.  
“Nevertheless, you will remain here as I command. It is time you actually stood on your own two feet. You are weak Leila. You run to me to resolve your problems.” He informed me sharply.  
“Then at least tell me that you will leave me in charge of the Dreadfort…” I pleaded.  
“No.” Was his answer.  
“How am I possibly worse than Ramsay? You say that a peaceful land means quiet people and even you cannot deny that his rule is far from peaceful. You know that if it were possible I would swap my brain for balls if that is what would make you happy.” I argued, furiously pleading my case. The look in my father’s eyes told me that there was nothing that I could do to change his mind. “If you swapped your brains for balls you would be dead within the weak. With a weak heart like yours, that brain is all you have. Perhaps leaving you with Ramsay will help knock spirit and courage into you.” He raged; standing with such force that his chair toppled backwards. “He will more likely knock a knife into me. Do you not remember the last child that you allowed to fall into his clutches?” I screamed. His face darkened. I rarely ever saw him like this, but sometimes a Bolton beat a Bolton. Before I could run, he had stormed across the room. The force of his blow knocked me to the floor, he pinned my wrists down with his iron fists, his face so close to mine that his lips brushed my cheek as I turned my face away. “Look at me!” He ordered. I did. “I will give you some knowledge before I leave. Only evil wins. You will never survive Ramsay with petty remarks and believing you are in the right. He was brought into this world by evil. He will always conquer while you try to be a saint.” It was then that he lifted himself off of me. I sat up and readjusted my jerkin, dusting my trousers off as I got up from the floor. He turned to me finally and said “You’re a Bolton. It’s about time that you started to fucking act like one.” He picked up his chair and sat down heavily, returning to his scrolls. I marched to the door and slammed it behind me. I would not cry. I was not weak and I would prove it. I could stand up to Ramsay. As I returned to my chambers, the sounds of men and women sharing pleasure echoed around the halls. But there was one sound that made my blood curdle more than any of the others. It came from the North of the castle, the direction of Ramsay’s chambers. The screams of pain tore through me. Whatever cruelties he would inflict on them tonight, I would make him pay for them. If my father spoke the truth and my woman’s heart was weak, then I would rip it out. Better to have no heart than a weak heart. I stalked back to my chambers, seething with anger and resentment.


	5. Preparing for a Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had vowed to make Ramsay pay, but what will the consequences of Leila's actions be?

The sound of footsteps woke me up. I lay facing away from the door. The footsteps stopped just outside the door and I heard it creak open. I didn’t know what the time was but I knew it was late, and it couldn’t be Alerie. Had Ramsay come to murder me in my sleep? It seemed a bit clean for him but it was a possibility. The footfalls sounded closer to the bed now. I shuffled nearer to the edge of the bed and dropped my hand down. I scraped it slowly across the floor, clawing for the dagger I had hidden under there. I felt the smooth handle. “Three… two…one” I sat bolt upright, pointing the dagger at the dark figure. “Milady! It’s me!” The voice said, though its identity still remained unknown. I lit the candle that stood beside my bed and held it up. The boy stood there grinning at me. “What in seven hells were you doing?” I cried.  
“Alerie ordered me to bring you water ready to wash with in the morning.” He said, settling a bowl of water on the table.  
“Well you shouldn’t be creeping around at night, you could have been anyone.” I replied.  
“What, like one of Ramsay’s men?” He asked bluntly. I nodded. “They have a cock, I have a cunt, and it’s pretty obvious who is better armed to stab someone.” I said coldly.  
“That’s true, but if you heard me creeping in, and I’m a great deal lighter footed, you would have easily heard one of them. And you’re pretty quick to draw the knife.” He finished, indicating to the dagger that I still held. I slipped it back under the bed. “Are you afraid of them?” He asked. I hadn’t really thought about it but my reaction to hearing someone in my room made it pretty clear. “Yes, I suppose I am.” I admitted, fiddling with my sheets.  
“Well then,” The boy said “I will make sure that no one comes to harm you.” And with that, he went and sat with his back against the door and shuffled until he was in a comfortable position. “What are you doing?” I asked.  
“Making sure no one comes in while you sleep milady. My job is for your life to be as easy and as comfortable as possible, although if it comes to someone trying to get in, I will just wake you, you wouldn’t stand a chance if I had to fight to protect you.” He joked, closing his eyes. I settled back down under the covers, and then remembered something that I had failed to ask before now. “What is your name boy?”  
“Merryn milady.” He replied. I smiled and fell back to sleep.

Merryn returned the following evening once my maids had left me. We spoke very little and he just settled himself by the door and would doze while I slept. I gave him a pillow and he would bring a blanket. By the time Alerie woke me in the morning he was gone. I dressed in my regular jerkin and trousers and went down to the courtyard, father was leaving me today. I wanted to show him that I was strong, and no longer worried about him leaving me here. He said very little to me, his face told me that his mind was elsewhere, distracted. I stood beside Ramsay and we watched him leave. As soon as he was gone, Ramsay disappeared back into the castle, without saying a word to me. My eyes met Merryn’s from across the courtyard. He didn’t have to say anything to comfort me. I decided that I needed air, and headed to the stables to take my horse out for a ride. The stables were empty of humans when I got there. I brought my horse, a beautiful bay mare named Arianne out from her stable. She was restless having been shut up since we’d got here. I brushed her quickly, each stroke calming her. I went to go grab her saddle when a noise made me stop. A whimpering sound came from one of the stalls further down. I hoped it wasn’t more dogs. I picked up a pitch fork and carefully made my way towards the sound. It was coming from behind the door of a shut up stable. I unbolted the door, rearranging the position of the pitchfork so that I could easily stab whatever it was with it. I threw the door open and leapt back expecting something to leap out at me. Nothing came. I peered in to the stinking darkness. A small figure was crouched in the corner. I stepped into the darkness. “Who are you?” I asked, moving a little closer. It was a woman. She had been stripped of any clothing, her hands bound together. “Please, please don’t make me go!” She whimpered. She was a whore; one of Ramsay’s whores that he had grown tired of and was going to use for sport. I heard footsteps coming from the courtyard. I had promised myself that I would make him pay. “I’m sorry, I can’t let you go, but I can help make it easier for you.” I whispered. The footsteps got closer. “When you are released into the forest, look for the rope.” I said. The girl looked at me with a mixture of fear and confusion. I locked her back in just as the men appeared around the corner. I said nothing. I put the saddle onto Arianne’s back and the men continued to walk past me. One of them did a double take when they realised who I was. “I’m sorry my lady, but you may want to go. It’s not fitting for you to see this.” He said. I nodded and quickly put the bridle on. I swung into the saddle, not looking over my shoulder as the girls screams rang out through the yard. On the way out, I grabbed a rope that was hanging on the wall and looped it around the front of my saddle. Ramsay was standing in the courtyard. “Where are you going sister?” He called “I don’t recall giving you permission to leave.” The familiar anger bubbled inside of me.  
“Since when did I have to ask for your permission Snow?” I spat.  
“Well if I were you…” He began, as the whore was dragged kicking and screaming into the courtyard “I’d stay out of the forest.” He leered at me and I urged Arianne into a canter.

It took no time at all for us to fly across the rugged ground and towards the forest. I did not stop until the whores screams were far behind me. I removed the rope from my saddle and threw it behind a large oak tree. Any huntsman would not noticed it, but I hoped the girl would find it. Better a clean death than torn apart by dogs or flayed alive. The screams became audible behind me so I drove Arianne on again. I had missed riding through these woods. Before the war, Arianne and I had ridden through them on a daily basis, uncovering new tracks as we went. The birds used to sing and I would come and listen, I could only hear them here as they rarely ventured any closer to the Dreadfort. No birds sang here now. I chose a path that I had ridden regularly as a child. Domeric and I had chosen it as our favourite ride. As I started along the track, I noticed that it was different. The scent of rotting flesh clung to the air. Further along the track, corpses and bones were littered across the path. Ramsay’s hunting parties obviously didn’t clean up after themselves. Arianne was fresh still so I allowed her to have her head. She stretched out, the trees and human carcasses becoming just a blur. She wasn’t bothered by the bodies and leapt over them as though they were nothing but logs. I looped around and pulled up just as the Dreadfort came into view. I could still hear the girl screaming as she was dragged further into the forest. I walked Arianne up to the castle walls and turned to see the men who I supposed had driven the whore into the woods come back out, laughing and jesting with one another. The forest behind them fell silent.

The morning was ruined by Ramsay’s shouts. “WHO DID IT? I swear if someone does not come forward then I will punish each and every single one of you! Our walls are lacking skins!” He called, holding the noose with the whore’s body still attached to it. The workers cowered in fear, trying to hide from his fury in the dark corners of the castle walls. It had not taken long for Ramsay to find the girl hanging from the tree which I had left the rope under. I stood in the doorway of the stables, watching smugly as Ramsay looked around, his eyes crazed. He was furious that his hunting had been ruined. I took several steps forward and he swung round to face me. “Calm yourself Ramsay. It was me. I gave the girl the rope.” I said calmly. He thundered towards me. “You killed her? She was mine. She was mine to kill!” He explained. I smiled what I hope was a sadistic smile. “I never said I killed her, I just happened to leave a rope under a tree.” I sneered.  
“Well, seeing as I don’t have anything to hunt today, perhaps you should take her place.” He growled. I grinned again and stepped towards him. “If my father sees so much as a mark on me, it will be you who he chases through the forest. I can promise you that.” I smirked as his face darkened.  
“Very well, but hear this sister,” He came very close to me, I could smell his stench of blood and sweat “I will make you pay for this. You may think you are safe but I know many ways to make you pay. Ways you would never have thought possible. Ways that will keep you up at night, weeping and shaking, wishing that you had been the one I’d hunted down.” His ghost grey eyes looked deep into mine. I refused to look away. It was as though I could see what he was thinking; images of my body being mutilated, beaten and abused whilst he watched before joining in on the task itself. He turned away and said over his shoulder “You enjoy your day sister.” His unsaid words hung in the air. _“For it may be your last.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not a lot really happens in this one, but I really needed it to fill in the gaps. It will pick up again in chapter six I promise.


	6. Ramsay's Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay wants to play a game and Leila has no choice but to join in. How much will this game cost her?

I waited for him. He was later than normal. Merryn would have told me if he could not come. Yet it had been Myranda who brought my water for me. The moon was reaching the highest point in the sky and he had still not come. I had sat up for several hours and I had lost track of time. My eyelids began to droop.

I woke when I felt my wrist being grabbed, the hand holding it tightened and twisted. I let out a yelp of pain and another gloved hand covered my mouth. My attackers placed a bag over my head and hauled me from the bed. I kicked and tried to scream but the sack that covered my head made me hold my breath. Its stench made me wretch in my mouth. They twisted my limbs to stop me from kicking. I already knew where we were headed. I knew this castle better than most and could identify the smells; the scent of the dungeons and torture chambers filled my nostrils. I felt limp and weak. Fear paralysed me. It was Ramsay, of course it was Ramsay. The men carrying me kicked open the door and roughly threw me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. “Gently boys, gently. Remember what she told us. Father will be most unhappy if a single mark is visible on her.” I heard Ramsay say. His tone was low and dangerous, mocking. The stinking bag was torn from my head. “Hello Leila.” He said, his face inches from mine. I scrambled backwards away from him, only to reverse into the legs of two men. They reached down and grabbed my shoulders. “I’m sorry to wake you. I’ve just thought up of a little game I couldn’t wait to show you. I call it ‘Ask a whore a question’,” I looked on, confused “I know, the name needs working on, but let’s see how the game goes first.” He said, standing up. He stood aside and I caught a glimpse of a figure tied to a rack. It was Merryn. Covered in bruises and blood, but it was him. I tried to scramble to him, to try to help him but the hands pinned me down, keeping me firmly in place. “Don’t worry little whore, you’ll get a better glimpse of him later.” Ramsay said to me.  
“I don’t understand?” I replied.  
“Don’t understand what?” He asked, smiling. He’d hoped I’d asked that. “Why you call me whore. I fail to recall in what way I resemble your mother.” I spat. He continued to smile.  
“You see little whore, when a man fucks a woman that isn’t his wife that makes her a whore. And this boy was seen going into your chambers on multiple occasions.” He informed me. I looked at the ground, ridden with guilt. My fear of Ramsay’s men and my decisions to let Merryn help me would now be the death of him. “Please Ramsay. I beg you not to kill him.” I pleaded, tears springing to my eyes.  
“Kill him? No, of course not! That would ruin the game!” He cried, bouncing away and standing near Merryn. “Here are the rules. I’m going to ask you a question, if you get the answer right, you both are free to go, if you get it wrong, your lover here will get hurt.” Ramsay said. Grinning when a look of terror masked my face. Merryn looked at me, his eyes full of fear. “So, here is my question,” Ramsay unsheathed the flaying knife that was passed down through my family. “Why have I brought you here tonight?” He asked me, though his attention was on Merryn’s fingers, deciding which one to flay first. There were so many reasons as to why I was here. “I don’t know.” I said, to myself but Ramsay had heard it.  
“I’m sorry, that’s not the right answer.” He replied. The men held my face and I was forced to watch as one of Merryn’s fingers were flayed.

I replied with every answer I could think of, but it was never the right one. Ramsay was running out of fingers to flay. “Is it because I’m a whore?” I asked quietly. He cupped his ear with his hand “I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked mockingly.  
“I’m a whore!” I cried, wanting only for Merryn’s suffering to stop.  
“A whore? Why would I punish you for that? We love whores, isn’t that right boys?” Ramsay called, I turned to see the Bastard’s boys spill into the room. “Yes, we do enjoy whores, only we don’t like to share them with manservants.” He finished, turning to Merryn. “Mute?” Ramsay summoned one of his men “Bring in the noose.” He ordered.  
“No! NO! Ramsay please!” I cried.  
“Pin her down, face down. Enjoy her from behind!” He laughed as I was pushed into the dirt, my screams muffled as my head was pushed down. The largest of the men, whose name was Edwin, clambered heavily on top of me first. I had never felt such pain. I bit heavily into my lip, blood dribbling down my chin, my screams still coming from my throat. “Edwin, make sure she’s watching.” Ramsay ordered, still as though he were mocking me. Edwin grabbed me roughly by the hair and forced my head up. Merryn was no longer tied to the rack but was now standing on top of a barrel, a noose around his neck. I cried, sobs heaving from me as Edwin rode me hard. I don’t remember when the rider changed but it was then Yellow Dick’s turn. They all had a go whilst I was force to watch in horror as Ramsay kicked the barrel away from beneath Merryn’s feet. The boys’ eyes bulged and his face changed colours several times. The men only stopped when Merryn’s feet stopped thrashing and his eyes stopped looking at me in search for help and comfort. I flopped in the dirt, too tired and in far too much pain to move. I heard Ramsay’s boots crunch closer and he whispered in my ear. “You said that you do not, in any way resemble my mother. Perhaps I can help with that.” He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me underneath Merryn’s swinging body, flipping me over so that I faced upwards. “Hold her down.” Ramsay ordered, there was no trace of mocking in his voice.   
“No, please.” I whimpered.  
“Hold her down and spread her legs.” He ordered. My whimpers turned into screams and I kicked and thrashed, ignoring the pain. Ramsay threw himself on top of me. Thrusting himself into me as though he were stabbing me with a dagger. He made no attempt to hold his weight off of me; ripping and clawing at my linen until I lay there in nothing but rags. I had never been touched in this way before. I had never felt so violated. I was no older than four and ten years, yet Ramsay rode me as though I was well broken in. I wept silently. I could feel the blood flowing from me as he repeatedly stabbed into me. Once he felt as though he had caused me enough pain, he stopped, still lying on me. “Don’t you remember the story? My mother used to tell me about when our father raped her, whilst her husband’s body swung above them from a tree. Now you are no better than her. And do you know the answer to my question?” He asked, panting heavily “No? I’m punishing you because you refuse to call me brother. I’m your brother now. We share blood, and now we have shared bodies, my sweet, pretty little sister.” His voice was almost tender now, and that scared me even more. But I didn’t react. I couldn’t. I was completely numb. Ramsay got off of me, leaving my sweaty, bloody body fully exposed. I should have felt humiliated, but I was too tired, too weak to even care. As the men picked me up, allowing their hands to wonder roughly across the contours of my body, I thought about my fathers words. I heard his voice in my head “You are weak Leila. Only evil wins. You will never survive Ramsay.”   
“Right now father, death would be a blessing.” I thought. Everything faded into darkness.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally just finished writing this. Have seen other fanfics that contain stuff like this, but writing it is just terrifying! I didn't want to go into too much detail as I am seeing it all through Leila's eyes and she's completely ignorant to what is truly happening. Sorry for such a depressing chapter.


	7. Broken and Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ramsay's punishment, Leila is forced to realize what Ramsay has taken from her. And it seems he has no intention of finishing with her yet.

Alerie woke me the next day. “Milady?” She said, her tone was one of fear and worry. “Milady are you alright?” She asked. I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how I felt. The physical pain of last night did not allow me to move, and the mental pain crippled me further; flashbacks to the events of last night continued to eat away at my hope, my courage, my sense of honour until there was nothing left but humiliation and fear. I’d hoped that it would eat away at that too, but even my memories didn’t want to touch it. Alerie approached and tore back the sheets, exposing my bruised and naked body. The men had not bothered to dress me. “My poor child, what has he done to you?” She said quietly. My eyes wondered to where she stood, but they didn’t see her. “Can you walk child?” She asked. I moved my legs, biting back the pain that shot through my legs, especially between my thighs, and all the way up my back. I managed to sit up and swing myself round so my legs hung off of the side of the bed. I tried not to look down at myself, but I couldn’t help but glimpsed dried blood around my cunny from when Ramsay had entered me. I threw up beside the bed. Alerie said nothing about it but continued to help me into a linen shift. She brought me a platter of food and allowed two serving girls to roll in a bath tub and fill it. They tried not to look at me. Alerie waved them away when the bath was filled and helped me into it. The water helped with the aching, but I couldn’t help but remember when Merryn had come in whilst I was bathing. I began to cry and shake uncontrollably in the tub. “Calm yourself now, it’s going to be alright.” Alerie soothed as she gently teased the knots out of my hair. The door swung open and I jumped violently, expecting to see the men coming back for me, but it was only Myranda and one other serving girl. “Pick out some clothes for milady. No dresses.” She ordered. They nodded and went to the wardrobe. “It’s all my fault.” I muttered, bringing my knees up and resting my chin on them. “I should never have let Merryn in. Merryn died because of me!” I cried. Myranda looked over her shoulder at me. “Child, calm yourself.” Alerie soothed, but the words didn’t help.  
“I’m not a child anymore! Ramsay has taken that from me! He has taken everything.” I sobbed, wanting only to hold myself under the water and never resurface again.  
“Yes, I don’t doubt that last night he took many things from you. But you can’t allow him to take what is not his. He cannot take your intelligence or your spirit. He cannot take your courage…” I turned to face her.  
“Courage, I have no courage. I am weak! Courage is being able to fight for someone you care for! Courage is not watching as your friend swings from a rope whilst you are raped by your own brother beneath him. It is not allowing yourself to be shared between men like a flagon of ale. As for my intelligence and spirit, my intelligence convinced me that I was better than Ramsay, and my spirit was cut when Ramsay stabbed me with his cock.” I was no longer crying. Hatred replaced the tears. Alerie, Myranda and the other girl stared at me, shocked by my outburst. I don’t think that they had known what Ramsay had done to me, but they did now. I turned in the bath tub and began to violently scrub myself free of the blood stains between my legs. The three other women eventually returned to their tasks in silence.

I did not leave the room that day. I couldn’t face anyone. I was ashamed of my weakness. The pain had begun to fade a little. I just stayed in my bed, sleep refusing to come to me despite how drained I felt. When it was time for dinner, Alerie came to escort me down. “You aren’t even dressed! I’d sent Myranda up to get you ready!” She exclaimed.  
“I sent her away. I’m not going to dinner.” I replied flatly.  
“You have to eat.” She said, irritating me as she fussed around the room putting any wrongs to rights. “Can you just leave me? I don’t need your help.” I spat. She looked at me and straightened up.  
“Lord Ramsay won’t be happy if you don’t come.” She said.  
“I don’t care.” I replied.  
“He might be angry and hurt you again, or me!” She exclaimed, her voice sounded fearful.  
“And still I don’t care. The more you care, the more you get hurt. The people I care about always get hurt. Domeric, my mother, Merryn. Father was lucky, he left before anything could happen to him.” I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. It was better for me to distance myself from them. “You don’t have to do this Leila, you can’t handle everything by yourself.” She said. Then I looked at her. “Did you not hear me? Go and inform Lord Ramsay that I will not be dining with him. Go!” I ordered. It sounded more like my father’s voice than my own. Something stirred in me. A form of pleasure that came when I saw the fear on Alerie’s face. She curtseyed quickly and ran from the room as the Bolton blood ran through me, spreading like wildfire. I stood up and looked in the mirror; I looked older, more defined. My cheekbones stood stronger on my face, my skin pale, my hair was still a mess and there was a severity in my looks. I looked like a Bolton. My eyes looked paler, more of a ghost grey. A Bolton’s eyes. I smiled to myself in the mirror. It was no longer the innocent smile of a child. It was a smile of a Bolton. I went back to the bed and fell into a sleep of dark memories.

I can easily remember what I was dreaming of before I woke up. The smell of blood and sweat strong in my nostrils, Ramsay’s weight on top of me as he thrust himself into me. The pain was so sharp that I sat bolt upright in the bed. It was still night time. I looked around and shuffled around in the sheets. It was then that I felt an unusual stickiness between my legs. I lifted up the sheets to investigate and was horrified. The sheets were stained red from my blood. What on earth had happened? Had Ramsay or one of his friends come to me whilst I was sleeping? My screams brought Alerie running, still half asleep. “What is it my lady?” She asked grumpily.  
“I’m bleeding!” I cried “Ramsay has made me bleed and now I am to bleed to death!” I was suddenly fearful, but had no urge to run to her. I stood alone. Staring at the blood soaked sheets. My head whipped round as I heard the door creak open. Myranda stood and looked at me in my blood soaked shift, then took in the state of the bed before turning away and walking off to tell Ramsay. I began to weep hysterically. “Oh for heaven’s sake girl. Calm yourself! You have begun your courses, that’s all!” Said Alerie as she stripped the bed. I looked at her in confusion. She looked at me in shock. “You don’t know what that means do you?” She asked. I shook my head. My father may have spoken about making others bleed, but he had failed to mention that it happened to women without the need of a blade. “Come on, we’ll clean you up and I’ll tell you all about it.” She said sternly. I did as I was asked. I listened but felt no need to comment.

I shooed Alerie away as she tried to help me into my clean bed. We heard footsteps in the corridor that led to my chamber. Alerie’s eyes scanned my face but I showed no emotion, there was no hint of fear. Moments later, Ramsay stepped into my room. Still no fear swelled inside of me. There was nothing to fear. Ramsay had already taken all I had. “My sweet little sister!” He called kindly, staggering to my bed. I could smell the ale on him. “My good friend Myranda tells me you’ve bled! Is it true?” He slurred. I nodded. “I am surprised you had any blood left after last night. But still it is good news, my men will be pleased to hear that you’re a woman now.” He threw himself onto my bed, lying beside me. “I’m glad you’ve bled, it means that there are no, complications after last night. Had I put a son in you, well, I would have had to put an end to it.” He said. He slid his hand under my shift. Despite the blood, he slipped two of his fingers inside of me and drew himself closer to me. “I know ways of ridding whores of children. Barbaric and painful yes, but sweet sister, sometimes needs must.” He whispered, burying his face in my hair. I squirmed and gasped a little as he thrust his fingers into me a second time. I heard him chuckle before he withdrew his fingers, sliding them down my leg. “Sleep well.” He sighed, allowing his hand to linger on my cunt before staggering away. Alerie, who had stood there and watched in horror as my brother did what he did, waited until he was gone before rushing to my side. “Milady…”  
“Don’t.” I said, fixing her with my Bolton eyes “I don’t need your pity.” I finished. She looked as though she were about to weep. My eyes were dry. She tried to grasp my hand, to comfort me, but I tore my hand away and turned my back to her. She lingered a little longer before leaving me, drying her eyes as she took away the blood stained sheets.     


	8. The Bolton Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila is ready to venture out into the world. Alone, without need of a friend. She is not the same person as before. When an unwanted guest comes to her, she finds herself driven by her Bolton blood.

 I decided to venture out of my room. Alerie and the other maids helped me to dress and offered to accompany me but I dismissed them. I didn’t need anyone. I wasn’t sure were to go. The Dreadfort felt different somehow, its rooms and halls were alien to me. There was once a time when I would’ve found solace in my brother’s room. But Ramsay had ruined that too. I chose instead to wonder outside; taking in the rare sunlight that was hardly ever seen in the North. It was still bitterly cold and my moon blood made moving feel strange. When I reached the courtyard, I found the Bastard’s Boys practising their fighting skills with each other. They stopped when I came into view. I wanted more than anything to run from them, to hide in my room and never come out again. But I didn’t. I straightened my back and strolled out, not meeting their leers and cruel smiles. They carried on making their jokes and crude remarks long after I was out of sight. I inhaled deeply as I reached the stables; the strong scent relaxed me and was familiar. I made my way to Arianne’s stable. She came forward to greet me, placing her great head on my shoulder as though to hug me. I stepped away. Her ears flattened and she snapped at me. “Stop it Arianne! I’m in no mood to argue.” I snapped. She stopped trying to grab me with her teeth, but her ears remained pinned back. She was a proud mare and used to getting her own way. “You’ll have to put up with it. This is how it must be now.” I informed her. She continued to look at me as though I had insulted her. I picked up a brush and began to clean her. She stood there refusing to acknowledge me.

I did not recall hearing footsteps behind me, but when I’d almost finished brushing Arianne’s near side, a hand grabbed my shoulder and pushed me around. “My lady.” The man said. I recognised him but could not recall where from. “Yes, can I help you?” I asked sharply.  
“No. But you should be careful. It’s dangerous to be out here all alone.” He said, his voice sounded sickeningly sweet. He moved closer to me so that I was pressed against Arianne’s warm body. “I see no danger.” I replied curtly.  
“Then you are mistaken.” He smiled cruelly and pulled me towards him. I didn’t struggle as he fumbled to undo my breeches; there was no point. “I can’t tell you how desperate I was to have a share of you the other night. Carrying you back to your chambers. it took all of my restraint not to stay with you. I would have been gentler than Ramsay. I would have made your first fuck a most pleasurable experience. But I can’t hold myself back any longer.” He panted, already excited by the prospect of indulging himself in me. He had been one of the men who had torn me from my bed that night. Despite all his talk, I highly doubted that he would have been able to please me; he was clumsy enough just trying to undo his own breeches. I looked up, imagining I were elsewhere as he tried to force himself into me. It was only when I heard him cry out in pain that I was brought back to Arianne’s stable. The man was off of me now, crouching and clasping at his arm. Blood leaked through his fingers. I quickly did up my breeches, then I looked at the man. He was glaring at Arianne who was staring back at him. I knew her well enough to tell that she was in a savage mood today. The man flung himself towards her but she used her teeth to grab him by the neck. She lifted him off his feet and threw him against the wall. The man fell back against it, dazed. She turned her backside to him and began to kick repeatedly. Blood sprayed the walls. I watched as my horse pounded the man within an inch of his life. “Enough!” I commanded. Arianne stopped, although reluctant, wanting to finish the man off. I walked towards the man and crouched down before him. He was so dazed that I had to lift his chin with my finger to see into his eyes. “A man must learn to show some restraint. Beasts will only attack other beasts, a savage to a savage. It seems my horse has cast a judgement on you. She deems you unfit to live, and who am I to cast aside her judgement? Truly, I did not wish for our meeting to finish like that. I was looking forward to seeing how you were going to treat me to a pleasurable experience, but I suppose we’ll never know now, will we?” I said mockingly, my Bolton blood bubbling as I watched the man’s eyes grow wide with fear. They looked about frantically. Arianne’s attack had left him paralysed. I relished watching the man, as feeble and helpless as I had been when he’d stood by and allowed my brother and his men to rape me and murder my friend. I drew a dagger from my leather boot, raising it high above my head. I brought it down hard into his chest. “That’s for my spirit!” I spat. I raised the knife again and brought it down into another part of his chest, his eyes watched me and I held his gaze. “That’s for my intelligence.” I raised the knife once more, watching the man’s life drain away with every drop of blood. The knife plunged into him, the force of the blow drove it deep into his heart. He gave me a pleading look. A wicked smile stretched across my face. “That was for my courage.” I whispered. His head drooped and he spat out blood. “Now the man knows how it feels to bleed.” I thought.

There was no one in the stables, so I worked undisturbed. I carved up the man’s body until I could not tell what part had once gone where. I threw the slabs of meat into a grain sack before washing the blood off of my skin and clothes. I was pleased that no guilt or remorse came to me. “That is how a Bolton feels. This is what I wanted you to be.” I could imagine my father’s words in my head. Once I was clean, I heaved the sack onto my shoulder and carried it to the dog pens. “I’m sorry girls, the meat is a little tougher than you are used to.” I said as I watched the dogs fight each other for a scrap of flesh. I left them to their feast, returning to Arianne’s stable. “Well my mare, it seems that we are of the same mind. Thank you for your service. Perhaps it should be you that we call Blood.” I cooed softly. I laughed when she snorted in disgust at the thought of sharing the name of Ramsay’s horse. “Alright, you shall remain as Arianne, and I as Leila. And no one shall see us for what we are, at least not yet.” I kissed the mare’s soft muzzle and turned, walking back out into the sunlight, meeting the eyes of Ramsay’s men with my own as I went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I just had to add a horse in. As I have my own horse, I really wanted to involve one in the story!


	9. Night Time Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay and Leila receive orders from their father and Leila dives in at the deep end when she attempts to make a second kill.

If anyone had noticed the man’s disappearance, they said nothing of it. I ventured out of my room and even attended dinner; sitting to the right of Ramsay who sat in my father’s chair. He never granted me permission to speak. Once in a while, he would come to my room at night and did what he wished with my body. I was never required to do anything, he was quite happy to explore and experiment on me without need of my help, so I would allow my mind to drift far away. For those dark hours as Ramsay indulged himself in me, it were as if I were dead; my soul free to wonder where it wished without need of my body. During the day, Ramsay allowed me to go on rides. Despite his agreeing to allow me this freedom, I was always followed. I could hear a group of men follow me around the trails. I knew it would have been easy to escape, Arianne would either out run them or tear them apart, but I didn’t leave. The Dreadfort belonged to the Bolton’s. I was the only true Bolton there and I wouldn’t abandon my people. I would not know where to go either. Whatever letters Ramsay received from my father, he didn’t think to show me any of them. I sometimes wondered what my father would think if he could see me now. Ramsay had been careful not to let any bruises show on skin I might expose; my arms, neck and chest remained scar and bruise free. He instead focused his violence on the lower regions of my body. Even several days after he had visited my bedchamber my thighs and between my legs would still ache. I refused to complain. I instead would take any anger or frustration out on others. My father had wished for me to show my Bolton blood and he’d gotten his wish. I hardly smiled. I hardly spoke with my maids. Besides Arianne, I was alone.

One evening at dinner, I turned to Ramsay and asked after our father. “Have you any word from our father, brother?” I asked quietly, turning to him. I would look him in the eye; ghost grey too ghost grey. He turned reluctantly, having been deep in conversation with Yellow Dick. He looked irritated by my interruption. “Yes.” He said darkly.  
“And is there any news? What does he say in his letters? What do you discuss?” I ask, suddenly wishing that father would return home soon as Ramsay’s look continued to darken.  
“It is not your place to ask such questions sister. Have you not learnt that girls should be seen and not heard? Leave business to the men.” He gave me a knowing look and turned back to Yellow Dick who watched me, smiling at me cruelly. I looked away. I could sense that Ramsay would come to me later, to teach the lesson again so that I would remember. I shuddered at the thought. I looked around me at the diners and noticed that someone was missing. Edwin, one of Ramsay’s followers, was not in his seat. I scanned the room and found him in the corner. He was a large man, but I noticed that he had pinned a poor serving wench to the wall. I looked away as I recalled that it had been me that he’d once pinned down. He had been the first in line to rape me. I felt my stomach turn and almost wretched onto the table. “Please excuse me brother, I am unwell.” I said. He simply waved me off with his hand, still distracted in conversation with Yellow Dick. I fled from the room. Once I was out of the great hall, I threw up into a dark corner before continuing back to my chambers.

As I had expected, Ramsay came to my chambers that night. “My sweet sister. I hope you are feeling better now.” He said. I looked at him, saying nothing. His smile dropped. “Leave us!” He ordered and Alerie scurried from the room. Ramsay dragged me from the bed and turned me round, unlacing the back of my jerkin roughly. He tore my breeches in his rush to remove my clothing. As soon as I had kicked off my boots, he threw me onto the bed as though I were some rag doll. He stripped quickly, eager to be on me, in me, touching me. I did not protest. I buried the shame deep inside myself. “He’s your brother!” My conscience screamed “You shouldn’t let him do this! Fight him off!” It was quickly drowned out by my father’s voice. “Evil wins.” I heard him say “He was brought into this world by evil. He will always conquer while you try to be a saint.” His voice echoed in my head. “I no longer try to be good father. If this is what you wanted me to be, then this is what I am.” I thought. Ramsay’s moans of pleasure interrupted my thinking as he hardened in me. I failed to see what he could find pleasure in. Despite my lack of experience, I could tell that the moans and squeals I heard from Myranda when she shared his bed were all fake. He was too brutal, too clumsy, and too quick to give a woman any pleasure. When he was done, he lay on top of me, panting heavily. When his breathing had steadied, he rolled off of me and began to dry his cock with my sheets. “Lie with me sweet sister.” He breathed, drawing me to him with his arm. I rested my head on his pale shoulder. “Father has written to me telling me that I must march on Winterfell and take it from Theon Greyjoy.” He whispered. I said nothing, if I said something wrong he would give me no more information. “I am to lead an army.” He said to himself, the thought of it aroused him. “Father has given orders for you too my sister. You are to remain here and hold the Dreadfort. Hush, don’t worry now, I will leave my good friend Edwin here to see to any business, I don’t want it worrying that pretty little head of yours. He’s promised to look after you too.” He whispered. I could tell he was smiling. So was I. “I leave within the week. I shall miss your company sister, but always remember that the Dreadfort is mine, and you are mine.” He rolled back on top of me and I smiled into his shoulder as he released his seed into me. “Yes brother,” I whispered “I am yours.” He moaned, voicing his pleasure. His howls continued long into the night.

He visited me once more on the night before he was due to leave. “Sister I am tired.” He muttered in my ear as he tore my clothes from me. “Perhaps you could try to indulge me tonight. It is time you proved your love for me.” He whispered, climbing onto the bed. I held back my laughter and bit my tongue to stop myself from saying “What love is there for me to prove?” I wasn’t sure what to do. I climbed on top of him and straddled him. He watched me. His ghost grey eyes darkened with desire as I rode him. I looked upwards as I moved and closed my eyes. I began to enjoy it. I was better than he was. I imagined he was someone else, anyone else. This man beneath me was not my half-brother. This man did not hunt women for sport or flay the fingers of servants. I released a few moans. Then he had had enough. He moved me to his side and reality came back to me. I had just enjoyed fucking my brother. He said nothing; I took that as a good thing.

He stayed with me through the night. I couldn’t sleep, not with him there. As the morning light crept through the windows a thought struck me. I had a knife under my bed. I watched Ramsay. His chest rose and fell in a strong rhythm. He moved his head to the side, exposing his neck. It would take nothing to grab the knife and slit his throat. I imagined the blood bubbling from the split skin, turning the pure white sheets red. I could see his eyes snap open, and he’d look at me. A look of terror, a silent plea for me to reverse time and let him live. I was off of the bed in an instant and on my hands and knees, searching for the blade. It grinned at me, glinting in the light. I reached for it, a few more inches and its smooth handle would slip into my palm…  
Two rough hands grabbed my hips and pulled me back. Ramsay flipped me over and threw himself on top of me. “Bored of the bed are you? Let’s try the floor.” He took me again, quickly. I carried on looking under the bed. The blade of the knife continued to grin at me as it watched Ramsay stab into me. “It should have been the other way around.” I thought.

Once Ramsay had finished, he dressed and left. Half an hour later I watched from the window as he rode Blood out of the courtyard. As soon as he was out of sight, I threw up behind the curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about all this incest business, it will all come and bite them in the backside later! In no way do I approve of it hehe XD


	10. A Beast Blossoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though Ramsay has left for Winterfell, Leila discovers that a piece of him has remained with her.

Edwin did as Ramsay ordered. He took care of all business matters, but not very well from what I heard. I was confined to my chambers with an illness that made me vomit near every morning. Alerie informed me on what Edwin was doing. He cared little for the peasantry and refused to help them, unless a woman came begging to him. He would help them, but only in the privacy of his chambers. I would wretch again at the thought of him clambering over them.  Thankfully, due to orders from Ramsay, Edwin was commanded not to touch me. But that did not stop him looking; I could tell by the way he stared at me at meal times. His eyes never settled on my face. Edwin’s treatment of me, in some ways, was worse than Ramsay’s. I was never allowed out riding, he feared what Ramsay would do if I ran away, hardly anyone spoke to me. Many knew of Ramsay’s ‘affections’ towards me and they feared what he may do to them if they showed any contact with me. I would aimlessly wander the familiar halls, sometimes venturing outside if I needed air. For the most part, I was left alone with my maids, and even they weren’t great company. Myranda was sulking as it seemed that Ramsay preferred my company to hers, Alerie hardly spoke in fear of provoking one of my Bolton outbursts, and the third maid, whose name was Lollys, was too self-involved and dim to ever strike up good conversation.

One morning, as I finished rinsing my mouth out after vomiting again, Alerie sent the other girls out of the room. I turned to her, irritated. “What are you doing? I need to dress!” I asked sharply.  
“I beg your pardon m’lady, but I needed to speak with you in private.” She said nervously, clutching her hands under her large bosom. I sat down heavily at the dresser table. “What is it? Hurry up! I have a busy day of doing nothing ahead.” I sighed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face glowed with sweat after throwing up. “When was the last time you bled m’lady?” Alerie asked, moving to stand beside me.  
“Not since my first course.” I replied hesitantly, uncomfortable with such a stark question. Alerie moved closer and grabbed one of my breasts. “Alerie! What are you doing?” I cried, batting her hand away.  
“Please, allow me m’lady.” She pleaded. The tone of her voice was desperate so I nodded my consent, still unsure of what she was trying to accomplish. She removed her hands after prodding and holding each breast. “They’ve swelled.” She said, her face looked fearful in the reflection of the mirror.  
“Well that’s normal isn’t it? I’m still growing.” I said. She welled up, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “For the Gods’ sake, what on earth is the matter now?” I asked, fed up with her drama. She swallowed her tears and looked at my reflection in the mirror. “M’lady I think… I think you’re with child.” She spluttered. My stomach, heart and mouth dropped. I sat, in shocked silence, looking in the mirror but seeing nothing. “It’s not possible,” I whispered, clutching the table to cease the shaking in my hands. “It’s not possible!” I screamed. My eyes met Alerie’s in the mirror. “Tell me it isn’t possible!” I begged. She shook her head. “I’m sorry m’lady, but all the signs are there.” She muttered.   
“But how is it possible?” I screamed again, anger churned inside of me.  
“I think you know.” Alerie stated plainly, refusing to meet my gaze. I stood up so quickly that the chair toppled over. I staggered over to the bed and clasped the bedpost with one hand and my stomach with the other. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The bedpost was the only thing that kept me from falling onto the floor. I clutched at my belly and wasn’t sure whether I felt the thing move inside of me or if it was just my imagination. Either way, this beast was blossoming inside of me. I eventually caught my breath back. “I want it out.” I whispered.  
“I beg your pardon m’lady?” Alerie stared at me in shock, not sure whether she had heard right.  
“You heard! I want this devil out of me!” I screamed. Tears failed to come. I was only filled with hatred, anger and a burning desire to rid myself of Ramsay’s seed that was spawning inside of me. “M’lady, I don’t know how…”  
“Then find me someone who does!” I cried, determination straightened me up.  
“I don’t know where…”  
“If you do not find me someone to tear this monster out of me then I swear, to the old gods and the new, I will take a knife and carve it out myself! Now GO!” I screamed. Alerie turned pale and ran from the room. I was not bluffing. I would rather bleed to death than bear one of Ramsay’s children. The son is the shadow of the father.   

Alerie did not return to me that day. I sat in my room and waited. The sun passed across the sky and Myranda and Lollys came and brought food to my room. I would not eat, I swore that I would not it again until the beast was out of me. I drank the wine they brought me; so much in fact that I staggered to the bed, unable to walk in a straight line. My sight and mind were a blur and I soon fell into a deep sleep. I dreamt of the terror inside me; that it came into this world, almost tearing me apart to make its violent entrance. It was, as I had expected it to be, the shadow of his father. The creature turned on me and began to claw at my face, tearing out my eyes and smothering my mouth. I screamed at it and lashed out. I woke with a start to find four women standing over me. I screamed again. They tore off their hoods revealing grotesquely twisted and warped faces beneath. I tried to throw myself from the bed, to try and escape, but the four of them grabbed my legs and arms and pinned me down. “Get off me, let me go please! I’ve done nothing! It’s not my fault!” I screamed and continued to thrash. Memories came flooding back of being dragged from my bed down into the torture chamber, being pounded into the dirt by several men and then raped by my own brother whilst a boy’s body swung above me. “She has the devil in her… I can feel its venom sliding through her veins.” One of the women said. She ran her long, wet tongue along my arm before biting into it, drawing blood. “Sour as a beast!” She declared. I tried to pull my arm away but the woman was strong, holding on with an iron grip. Their ages were hard to tell, but they were very old. “Please, tell me, what do you want with me?” I asked, eyes wide with fear. I could feel my courage slip from me. I could imagine the beast inside of me drinking it all up. “Hush now, my lady, it is more to do with what you want from us.” One of them hissed. I tried to fight against their hold, but one of them held a scrap of cloth over my nose and mouth. In my panic, I breathed in. The scent of the cloth was so strong that I began to feel weak and tired. My body was paralysed and I found that I was unable to speak. They tied a black cloth over my eyes. Then they began their work. I felt one of them slide an old hand into me, they began to claw at the walls of my womb. I wanted to scream and thrash with every stab their sharp fingernails gave. The pain seemed to be far worse when I was unable to react to it. “Think of something sweet my lady… dream while we cleanse you.” I heard one of them whisper. I tried to find something, anything that could distract me. I found myself in an old memory that I’d made with my brother, my true brother Domeric, before we had even heard of someone named Ramsay. I was lying beside a clear stream, watching the pebbles laugh and dance on the bottom. Domeric sat and watched over me, playing a merry tune on his harp. Our horses greedily tore at a patch of grass nearby. I reached out and stroked the surface of the water, mesmerized as it fought against my hand to continue on its journey. Nothing was going to stop it. “I’m going to be as strong and determined as this stream one day.” I said to my brother. He laughed at me. “You are already as stubborn! Come, father is expecting us back at the Dreadfort.” He replied.  
“Ok, but only if we race.” I stood up, smoothing out my dress.  
“You’ve already beaten me once today!” He jested. I went and stood beside my horse. “Alright!” Domeric surrendered, swinging the small harp onto his back and lifting me into the saddle. I kicked the horse and it cantered off into the forest. “Leila wait! Leila!” Despite the growing distance between us, his voice remained loud and strong. “Leila!” He cried as the forest crashed in around me. I woke with a start. The blindfold had been removed from my eyes and daylight streamed in from the windows. I was lying on clean white sheets. The women were nowhere in sight. “Alerie?” I cried faintly. I felt weak. My insides were sore and a reminder of the women scraping, cleansing me with their claws. “Alerie?” I tried to call a little louder, my throat was sore too from the strong scent of the cloth that had crawled down my throat to paralyse me. Alerie came in, eyes red from tears. “Is it done?” I rasped.   
“Yes m’lady. The women left before dawn. They said you were cleansed and freed of the demon.” She sniffed. I smiled a small smile “I am a Bolton. We are never free of demons.” My eyes slid shut and the last thing I remembered was saying “We are demons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God! This chapter was so harrowing to write! I found myself getting really upset over it, as it is in first person, it's easy to get mixed up in the emotions of the character. Anyway, I'm sorry for cramming it all into one chapter but I just wanted to storm through it and get Leila out of the situation. The things I put her through... my apologies Leila!


	11. The Game Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After recovering from her ordeal, Leila finds that she is changing and cannot wait to act on her new instincts.

I was unable to walk for the next few days. My maids brought me my food and the story was that my illness had worsened over the past few days and it wasn’t safe for me to venture out of my chambers. Edwin had obviously written to Ramsay and told him that I was ill as I received a letter from him. I was surprised to know he cared so much as to write a letter.

_My dearest, sweetest sister,_

_I have been informed that you are unwell. It breaks my heart to know that you miss me so much._

If he even had a heart.

_We are nearing Winterfell. I have received orders from our father that I am to bring Theon Greyjoy to King Robb and allow the rest of the ironborn to walk free, unless they refuse to surrender. I fail to see how keeping them alive would help our cause.  
I will return to you soon dear sister, Greyjoy is ensuring that Winterfell will fall easily. He is a monster without honour in the Northmen’s eyes._

_Rest well until I return my sister._

_Your dear brother,  
Ramsay._

“Burn it.” I stated. Without a word, Alerie took the letter from me and thrust it into the fire. Who was Ramsay to judge if a man had honour? Or if that man was a monster? Alerie busied herself around the room, straightening the brushes on the dressing table. “I didn’t thank you for finding those women.” I said awkwardly. She didn’t look at me. “It was my duty to do what you asked of me m’lady.” She replied. “With luck you will recover soon.” She finished, picking up some soiled clothing and disappearing from the room. I sat back, sinking into the pillows, I too hoped I would recover. I still found myself angry, wanting to hurt someone, anyone. Of course I was mostly mad at Ramsay, but I found my mind drifting, wondering the best ways to carry out revenge on any who had hurt me in these past few weeks. I longed to escape my prison, and I longed to prove myself a Bolton.

One of my wishes were granted a few days later. I ventured out around the Dreadfort, slowly at first. My strength grew and I began to stride about the castle as I had before Ramsay’s seed had been planted, and then torn out of me. I tried to forget about then. I wanted to return to normal. I ventured outside and went to the stables. Most of them were empty, but Arianne was standing in her stable, looking as bored as I had been. She even whinnied when she saw me. I stroked her between the eyes; wishing more than anything to just ride out of the Dreadfort and away from it all. I was about to let myself into her stable when I heard a noise that made me stop. The girl’s whimpers came in a rhythm. I had been here before, it felt like a long time ago, but I remembered the pain and trauma that followed. Everything in me was screaming at me to run. Then a man’s gasps began to follow her small cries for help. I stepped away from Arianne and strode past the stables, following the sound. I stopped at the second to last stable. Edwin was pushing a young girl up against the back wall, thrusting hard into her. I could tell by her face that she wasn’t enjoying it. I leaned casually against the door frame of the stable, crossing my arms. I coughed sharply. The girl’s eyes that had been clamped shutnow flew open and Edwin pulled himself out of her. “M’lady!” The girl cried, rearranging her skirts. “Can I help you with something my lady?” Edwin asked, irritated as he did up his breeches. The girl made her escape while he was distracted. “That serving maid belongs to my father.” I stated, smiling.  
“And why do you care who I fuck?” He asked roughly.  
“Because I want it to be me you’re fucking.” I said sweetly. The look of shock on his face was priceless. “M-My lady?” He stuttered.  
“You heard me. I want you. And you want me. I had all of Ramsay’s favourites that night but you beat them all. You are ten times better then Ramsay. I want you to fuck me again.” I smiled seductively, moving closer to him.  
“You-you belong to Ramsay, my lady.” He stammered, but his eyes betrayed his thoughts, his desires.  
“I know, but I can deny my desires no longer. I have to have you. What Ramsay doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I stood on my tiptoes to whisper into his ear “Meet me in the torture chamber, no one ever goes down there. Then we can be alone and I’ll be all yours.” I whispered, brushing my lips along his jaw line as I pulled away. He clasped me to him, so tight that I could feel the hardness beneath his trousers. “Tonight.” I cooed. He released me. I turned and walked away, my hips swinging and a secret smile on my lips.

At dinner that evening I glanced at Edwin, smiling seductively every time I caught him looking back at me. He watched me with eyes that burned with desire and greed. I stood. “I shall retire now my Lord, I am tired and am in need of a long sleep.” I said to him, giving him a secret look.  
“Very well my lady. I hope you have a most enjoyable sleep.” He replied flirtatiously. I smiled again and left the great hall. I dismissed my maids, telling them I wished to be alone, before adorning a long, hooded cloak and making my way down to the cold darkness of the torture chamber.

***

_He was ready for this. He had desired her ever since she had returned from Robb Stark’s campaign, when he had seen her in her tight leather jerkin and the trouser that hugged her thighs hips, showing her beautiful, firm curves. That one night, he too had felt it; he’d known that she had only been feigning the discomfort. She had enjoyed it as much as he and now he’d get to do it again, alone. She would be his. He wouldn’t have to share her with anyone. Edwin drained his last cup of wine before standing and staggering from the room. Most of the diners had gone from the hall and he had been left alone at the high table. He’d have loved to have sat in Lord Roose’s chair, to know what it felt like to have ultimate power. He’d had business that needed attending too this evening, but Lord Roose’s business could wait. Firstly, Edwin was going to fuck his daughter. “Shit!” He muttered as he tripped and fell down the last few steps on his way down to the torture chamber. Why did it have to be so fucking dark? Still, that wasn’t going to stop Edwin. He could see firelight flickering at the far end of one of the narrow corridors. He had to duck and move through it sideways it was so small. His pace quickened as he neared the entrance to the room with the light. He burst into it eagerly, casting a glance around the room. There! He spotted her in the shadows. Lord Roose’s daughter stepped out of the darkness. She was completely naked; her hips well shaped and her breasts were firm and round. However as he cast a look at her face he noticed something. The firelight coming from the flaming torches on the walls made the shadows dance, obscuring her face. “Hold on! You are not Roose Bolton’s daughter!” He growled angrily. Before he could take a step towards the woman, something heavy hit him in the back of the head, sending him crashing to the ground. Dazed and confused, Edwin looked up. A blurred shape stood over him. “Welcome Edwin, I’m so glad you joined me here. We are going to have so much fun.” Lady Leila spat before bringing the object down on him again, knocking him out cold._

***


	12. Leila's Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila gives Edwin a taste of what it felt like to lose something important.

I had to wake him with a bucket of freezing water. I watched him squirm as he tried to pull away from it, only to discover that he was tightly bound around the wrists and ankles with leather to a wooden rack. His eyes twitched in terror around the room before they rested on my face. I smiled as he began to thrash against the wood in hope of escaping. “Hush now Edwin, you’re going to need your strength.” I soothed coldly, stroking his bare chest. I had removed his clothing so that he was as exposed as I had been. “What do you want with me?” He asked, breathing heavily.  
“I thought we could play a little game. You enjoyed the last one we played together, do you remember?” I mocked, my voice sounded sweet and innocent.  
“If you’re going to kill me, be quick about it!” He spat angrily.  
“Oh you aren’t going to die, at least not yet. I don’t plan on making it that easy for you.” I said, smiling wickedly. His head drooped as he accepted his fate; he knew that he would never come out of the chamber alive. “First, I want you to know what it’s like to be humiliated, exposed, disgusted. I want you to know how it felt for me to lie there and have everything I cared about stripped from me. Unfortunately for you, you care little about anything, so I’m afraid it’s going to be quite painful for you.” I informed him. He looked at me, confused. “What happened to you Leila? You used to be sweet and innocent, a little sharp with your tongue, but you knew your place.” He muttered, his eyes pleading.  
“That shit won’t work on me. My place is where I will be when I’m done with you, running the Dreadfort in my father’s sted. Don’t think I’m going to feel guilty. Ramsay has taught me well, and he’s not even here! I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I moved closer to whisper in his ear “I carried Ramsay’s child, right under that hideous nose of yours. His seed spawned inside of me and out of it grew a monster, and do you know what I had done? I had some old hags rip that beast from my womb. I felt no guilt then at slaughtering my own child, what makes you think I’ll pity you? You who was the first to climb on top of me, stab me. And do you want to know another secret?” I drew back from him, laughing “You weren’t even that good!” I laughed again wickedly. The large man looked ready to weep. That made me laugh harder. “So back to the game.” I said. I skipped to the corner of the room where an ancient knife hung from the wall, all by itself; other knives weren’t worthy to stand beside it. I turned back to Edwin. “Do you know what this is?” I asked.  
“It’s the Bolton’s knife my lady.” He glared at me, daring me to use it.  
“Very good!” I turned the blade over in my fingers “Such a fine blade! My father used to show it to me. He said it had been honed and made thin enough to fit between the top most layer of skin and the tissue below. He said it was perfectly made to peel off the skins of our enemies.” I danced back over to him. “Now, I hope you’re listening,” I said, using the slightly curved end of the blade to hold his chin up so that his eyes looked into mine. “I am going to ask you a question, I think we’ve played this one before, only it won’t be me getting hurt this time. It’ll be you.” His eyes once again filled with terror. “You recall that the last time we were both here there was a boy in our presence, he didn’t make it out of this room alive either. Now I want you to tell me… what was that boys name?” I asked. He looked up as though trying to remember. “I don’t know.” He answered. I sighed. “Oh dear, that’s not the correct answer.” I shrugged. Drawing the knife away from his chin and up to his arm. “I’ve never used this knife before. My apologies if I make a mess of it.” I said. I relished his screams as I slipped the blade beneath the skin and peeled the flesh away, laughing with delight as he howled. I peeled away a strip of his forearm, my ancestors hands seemed to guide me as I tore away at the flesh.

He continued to scream, his voice growing hoarse. I had flayed some chunks off of his limbs and fingers. He never got Merryn’s name right. “It’s a shame. It was very wrong of you to play a part in his death when you didn’t know his name. He was a sweet boy. Time for a break I think!” I exclaimed, sitting myself down in a chair that Ramsay used when he was in this room. “You know what a man’s biggest problem is? It’s that you think too much with your cock and not enough with your head! That is why you’re here, you just made it far too easy! You were just too eager to catch another glimpse of my cunt. I once told my father that I would gladly swap my brains for balls to make him happy, and he told me that I would be dead within the week. He was probably right, it’s far too much fun making men regret having their favourite body part.” I laughed as he looked at me pitifully. “I would offer you a drink, you must be thirsty after all that screaming, but I’m sorry to say that I don’t have anything. On the other hand, I do know someone who is always thirsty. Lollys! Come in here darling!” I called. Lollys appeared from the doorway, she had pretended to be me earlier and was still naked, though she didn’t seem to mind. “Why don’t you have a drink, it’s on Edwin.” I smiled at Edwin sweetly.  
“Yes, gladly m’lady.” She replied. The whore skipped over to Edwin and knelt before him. She took his cock in her mouth and began to suck. Edwin tried to resist her at first, but not for very long. Soon enough, his moans of pleasure were bouncing of the walls. When I sensed that he was about to climax, I ordered Lollys to stop. “You see what I mean?” I said as Lollys walked away. “You men just can’t control yourselves. So, I’m going to help you.” I walked back to the chair. Beneath it lay a gelding knife. I removed it from beneath the chair and turned to face Edwin. All blood drained from his face as I began to walk towards him, knife in hand.

Eventually, he regained consciousness. There were no windows in the torture chamber so I could not tell what time it was. I had rested a little once the job was done. The man, though not a man anymore, groaned as he woke. I had not cleaned him up after it was done. Dried blood had crusted around where his balls used to be; I smirked at the sight. “Not so mighty and manly now are we dear Edwin.” I said, a little tired. He shook his head to wake himself. “I think we should put it to the test though, don’t you?” I asked. He looked at me and watched in horror as I ordered Lollys back into the room. The girl didn’t hesitate despite the blood and the gash. She sucked at his cock. But nothing happened. Edwin looked as though he were about to cry. “That’s enough now Lollys, thank you.” I said, Lollys pranced from the room, wiping blood from her mouth. “Humiliating isn’t it? To be so out of control? So powerless? To have something dear taken away from you. You took away my maidenhead, my innocence and part of who I was. This is what you have made me. You’ve paid a heavy price, don’t you think?” I asked. I stood before him, he bent his head and wept. “Kill me, please.” He whispered.  
“It would be my pleasure.” Was my reply.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, I just didn't want to put too much into one chapter. I might not upload as often now as I'm supposed to be revising for my A-levels... I wish writing a fanfic was an A-level, then I'd be happy to do it :)


	13. Peaceful Land, Quiet People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila now sits at the high chair of the Dreadfort. But she still has much to learn. In her quest to achieve peace, she begins to stir up a force more powerful than she can imagine. Her decisions now begin to mark the path of her future.

They hadn’t expected me to walk in. The Great Hall had been transformed into a sort of council chamber. Four men sat around it, leaving the chair at the head of the table empty, waiting for Edwin. Maester Hallys sat to the right of the great chair. Addam Peckoldon master of the defences, Theomar Brondon and Willem Stonehouse were also in attendance. “Forgive me for my being late… I had urgent business that needed seeing to.” I called as I strolled into the hall and took my place in the grand chair.  
“It is no problem my lady.” Maester Hallys said. All but Theomar seemed not to mind my being there. “So, shall we begin?” I asked, smiling.  
“Surely we should wait for Master Edwin?” Theomar asked.  
“Edwin won’t be attending the meetings anymore. And he is not your master.” I said sharply.  
“But Master Ramsay…” He protested.  
“My brother is not here. In his absence my father asked for me to rule in his absence.” I cut in.  
“But…”  
“Has your voice always sounded like that Theomar? It’s very irritating. I’m not surprised that Edwin wasn’t very fond of attending these meetings. If I have to listen to you drone on for another minute I too might take my leave. You are dismissed Theomar.” My ice eyes latched onto his as he began to shake with anger.  
“You can’t…” He stammered.  
“Another word out of you Theomar and I will see to it that you never say another. Your choice is simple, leave now, or leave without your tongue.” I smiled pleasantly, but my voice was cold and commanding. Theomar shook his head, stood up and left. The others watched him go. “Well, that put Theomar in his place.” Willem jested.  
“We’ve been wanting him out of these meetings since the day he joined.” Added Addam.  
“Are you sure that was wise my lady?” Asked Hallys sternly.  
“Theomar clearly stated that he wished to be loyal to Ramsay. Now gentlemen, would you answer to a Bolton, or would you answer to a Snow?” I asked, fixing each of them with my cold eyes. They looked at each other, recognising the Bolton coldness in my voice. They each nodded. No one was jesting any more.

Despite Edwin supposedly having been taking care of such matters, there was a lot of business to take care of. I spent many nights up late worrying about such things. The crime was the worst part. Ramsay had cared very little for it, having played part in such things himself. I ordered men to go out on patrol around the small villages and markets, each time they would come back with thieves, each time they would beg for mercy and for me to let them walk free. I did so; but they were also free of their fingers. I would do the job myself; cutting off each finger individually and relishing the screams. “A peaceful land, a quiet people.” My father used to drill the saying into me. The lands around the Dreadfort did seem more peaceful. I would take regular rides around the lands, taking advantage of the fact that I could ride out whenever I felt like it. The common people would keep their distance, but they would not run inside their houses when they saw me coming.

One morning as I sat at the high table, listening to the three men bicker with one another over something of little importance, one of the guards walked into the great hall, the look on his face stern and sombre. “Can I help you?” I asked, my voice full of boredom.  
“A girl has come to you to report a crime.” He informed.  
“What is it?” I asked, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. The guard looked nervously at the three men as they waited to hear what the crime was. “She says she was raped my lady.” He said, dropping his gaze. The three men turned to look at me, waiting for my reaction. I felt anger stir inside me but did not allow it to show on my face. “Send her in.” I ordered. The man bowed and turned back to the door. The men looked at each other nervously. I said nothing as the large doors opened and the same guard retraced his footsteps with a young girl behind him. “That’ll be all.” I said to the guard. He bowed again and walked off, leaving the girl with us. She looked around like a frightened rabbit. She was shaking. “Sit child.” I ordered softly. She was younger than me, very thin and clad in nothing but rags. She hesitated, watching the three men, before perching on the edge of the seat at the opposite end of the table. “Now tell us what happened.” The girl looked as though she were about to cry.  
“It’s alright.” Said Willem, reaching out to pat her shoulder. The girl yelped and flinched away from his touch. “Don’t!” I cried, Willem sat back in his seat and looked at me. “Do not touch her. Do any of you have any idea what it’s like to have to come forward and tell someone what a man has done to you? Well, do you?” I asked angrily. The men all looked down in shame. I turned my attention back to the girl. “Speak, no harm will come to you here.” The girl nodded.  
“I was washing clothes down by the river. A man came up behind me and grabbed me. He dragged me behind a tree and… and climbed on top of me. He…” The girl broke down into tears.  
“Did you see what he looked like?” I asked sternly.  
“He had long dark hair. He was strong, pale skin and really green eyes.” She sniffed.  
“And do you know this man?”  
“No but, they call him Morsus.” She muttered.  
“Why is he called Morsus?” I asked, the men shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Without warning, the girl yanked back the collar of her dress to reveal a deep bite mark on her shoulder. “It is the ancient word for bite m’lady. He marks his victims with it.” The girl rearranged the collar of her dress. The men refused to meet my gaze. “You knew about this man didn’t you?” I spat.  
“Yes My Lady.” Addam muttered.  
“How long has this man been doing this?” I asked.  
“A while.” Addam muttered.  
“How long?” I asked, my voice low and dangerously quiet.  
“Reports began to come in just after you and your father left to join Robb Starks army.” Hallys informed.  
“And why was nothing done?” They looked fearful at the tone of my voice. I sounded like my father did when he was angry. “Lord Ramsay did not feel that it was worth wasting time on My Lady.” He muttered. Of course Ramsay would not have seen this as a crime; he was guilty of far worse things. “You may go, thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I will see to it that this man is brought to justice.” I promised. I would keep it. We had no need of another savage in the Dreadfort. “Master Peckoldon, see to it that patrols are sent out to find this man. When you find him, bring him to me.” I ordered.  
“Yes My Lady.” He got up, bowed, and left, glad to have escaped.  
“That’ll be all for today gentlemen.” I said, rising from my chair.   
“What are your orders for the feast tonight My Lady?” Maester Hallys asked.  
“Feast?” I asked, turning on my heel.  
“Yes, Master Ramsay always wished for feasts. It is a new moon tonight.” Maester Hallys informed me.  
“I fail to see how a new moon is worth such a celebration. We have little to celebrate. Until this Morsus is caught, there shall be no feasts.” I commanded.  
“But the kitchens have already prepared most of the dishes.” Maester Hallys protested.  
“Then tell them to give it to the poor. We have no need of it all. Unless you yourself are famished Maester Hallys.” I said. I left the room with the two men slumped in their seats.

Three weeks passed. I was relieved that my moon blood came and went on its natural course. I was sat with a letter from my father, informing me that he and Robb Stark had arrived at Harrenhal and found it abandoned with only one survivor, some old maester named Qyrburn. He said that Robb had ordered his mother to be imprisoned after she had released the Kingslayer. A knock on the door prevented me from reading further. “Enter!” I called. Master Peckoldon entered, his face grave. “My Lady, we’ve found Morsus.” He informed. “Have him brought to me in the great hall.” I ordered, hurrying from the room. I made my way quickly to the great hall and sat myself down at the high table. I lounged in my father’s chair, casually awaiting the man’s arrival. He was chased in, hands bound together, and forced to kneel before me. “They say they call you Morsus.” I said, making him look up. His eyes were a bright green. “They say you’ve fucked your brother.” He retorted. I stood and slapped him around the face.  
“Hold your tongue, or I will.” I spat. “What is your true name?” I asked.  
“Why do you wish to know my name?” He asked.  
“Because I think it only right to know a man’s name if you are going to cause them pain.” I answered.  
“That seems fair. I am Boros Smallwood. I don’t see how you are worthy of knowing my name, it is an ancient one. You are little but the sister, or should I say whore, of a savage.” He spat.  
 “Tell me Boros, what makes you think that you have the right to judge me?” I asked, regaining control.  
“Because you’re a woman.” He replied blatantly.  
“So that is why you rape innocent women? Because you believe you have a right over them?” I asked.  
“Yes, that and I enjoy it.” He mocked. I controlled myself this time. A reaction was what he wanted. “Well let me share my view. I shared the same view with a good friend a few weeks ago. He’s dead now. My view is that a man needs to learn control. But, as my friend found out, sometimes you need to lose something to gain that control.” I knelt down so that I could look him in the eye. There. There was the fear that stirred my Bolton blood. “Take him to the torture chamber.” I ordered, then turned back to Boros. “I look forward to our time together.” I whispered.

I joined him a few hours later. He had been bound to the wooden rack and stripped. “Good evening Boros.” I said cheerfully. He looked up. “Just get on with it, kill me.” He ordered.  
“I’m not going to kill you.” I laughed “Don’t you know what the punishment is for rape? You lose your balls or you take the black. Fortunately for you, I’m not going to give you a choice, the wall is a dreary place and since you enjoy fucking so much, it would be horrible to go celibate! Although, you might not enjoy it so much after this.” I smiled and unsheathed the gelding knife, still stained red from Edwin’s operation. I had not cleaned it. It had remained on the floor of the torture chamber and was covered with dirt. “Oh, that could turn nasty.” I jested. Then I bent down to begin my work.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it gets a bit short at the end there! This chapter just really had to happen in order to set up the rest of it, so I'm sorry that it's not very good.


	14. The Revenge of Dorea Smallwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am a Bolton. I have known cruelty and pain. I have known happiness and I have had it torn from me. I care little for your curses. Words mean nothing, and you will not live to see if your curse comes true.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly did not know what to call this chapter but it will all make sense (I hope) once you've read it.

“How did he know?” I raged, pacing the length of my chambers whilst Alerie cowered by the door. It had been a few days since I had released Boros, without his balls. Yet I still failed to understand how he knew what Ramsay had done. “I don’t know m’lady.” Alerie mumbled. I stopped, a thought coming to me suddenly. “How did you find those women? The ones that destroyed the baby?” I asked, turning on her.  
“It was not I that found them m’lady?” Alerie confessed.  
“Who did then?” I asked, my voice dangerous. Alerie nervously shuffled her feet. “Alerie.” I growled.  
“M’lady, please understand, I couldn’t find anyone so I had to turn to someone who I thought would know…” She stammered, almost in tears.  
“Who did you ask?”  
“Myranda, m’lady. I thought that, as she had been with Master Ramsay, she may have had to find a way to rid herself of a child.” Alerie said, shaking.  
“Find Myranda and bring her to me.” I ordered.  
“M’lady…”  
“Go, or it will be you that I punish.” Alerie curtseyed quickly before dashing out of the room.

Myranda sauntered into the room a few moments later and gave a shallow curtsey. I sat facing her, lounging on a chair. “You wished to see me m’lady?” She asked sweetly. Everything about her made my blood boil. “Yes, I did Myranda.” I replied coldly.  
“Should I sit?” She asked.  
“No. You will stand.” I instructed.  
“As you wish m’lady.” She continued to smile.  
“Alerie tells me that you found the women who helped me.” I fixed her with my cold eyes, not allowing her warm smile to melt me.  
“That’s right m’lady. You are most welcome.” Her smile turned cruel, my eyes turned to ice.  
“What did you tell them?” I asked.  
“The truth, every little detail.” She hissed. I flew to her so fast that she hadn’t even wiped the smile from her face before I had pinned her against the door, holding a knife to her throat. “You’re smart, I’ll give you that. But listen here whore, you may have been Ramsay’s favourite whore but do you think he would hesitate for one moment to release you into the forest and hunt you down? I swear to you, if you tell Ramsay about our child, I will make that method of death look quick and pain free. I warned you once that I would gladly slice open that pretty little neck of yours, but that was a long time ago. I’ve learnt much more since then. You do not want to fuck with me.” I spat, my face inches from hers. I relished seeing the fear in the whore’s eyes. This was a girl who had been a part of Ramsay’s night time experiments and games, and yet here she was, shaking in fear of me. “You may go.” I said, walking away from her.  
“Yes m’lady. Thank you m’lady.” I laughed as she scurried from the room like a frightened little mouse. Her answer still did not help to make sense of it all though; how had Boros found out if all that knew were a small band of witches?

I got my answer a few days later. We were having yet another meeting in the Great Hall when a loud shriek was heard from behind the door. “Guards!” I called. The doors opened instantly. “What is going on?” I asked coolly. The three men looked at each other nervously as they heard a woman shriek again. “A woman has come wishing to speak with you My Lady.” The guard announced.  
“Well bring her to me.” I ordered. The guard bowed and marched back to the door. “It’s just one fucking crisis after another.” I muttered to myself. An old woman threw herself through the door, escaping the clutches of both guards. She hobbled quickly towards me and stopped. She was hideous. Her face was twisted and sagged, there was hardly any hair on her head, and her rags hung off her old and twisted body. She stopped a few feet away from the table and pointed a crooked finger at me. “You!” She cried. I smirked at the drama of it all. “You murdered my son!” She screamed, shaking her finger at me accusingly.  
“My dear woman, I do not know what you mean? And as for the entrance, might I compliment you? It was brilliantly done. Do you wish for a coin for that display?” I mocked.  
“You killed my son!” She shrieked again.  
“I don’t know what you mean.” I replied, suddenly serious.  
“You maimed him, then you left his wound to fester and rot inside him. You let it eat away at him until he died in agony in my arms. My poor sweet Boros.” She began to weep.  
“Your son was a rapist, he deserved whatever he was given. As for you, they say the son is the shadow of his father, but I fear that he is more like his mother, storming in here and making false accusations.” I argued, rising from my chair.  
“If a child is the shadow of their parent, then what does that make you?” The old crone hissed through her tears.  
“You have no right to speak of Lord Bolton in that way.” Piped up Peckoldon. The old woman did not glance at him, her green eyes were fixed on me. “You are filled with the devils blood Bolton girl, and that seed that spawned within you was a monster itself, produced by the darkest of sins…”   
“What did you say?” My voice was barely audible.  
“You have the devils blood, and anything born from you shall have it too…” She grinned wickedly.  
“You will silence yourself hag, or I will silence you myself!” Peckoldon threatened. He drew his sword. “No Addam Peckoldon, it shall be you who remains silent.” The old woman spat. She raised her scrawny arm and began to tighten her hand into a fist. Addam Peckoldon clutched at an invisible hand around his neck. The old crone’s eyes never left me as I watched the man fall to the floor, thrashing and writhing as his face turned blue and his eyes bulged. “Stop!” I ordered, but when the witch dropped her grip, Addam Peckoldon lay on the cold stone floor, motionless. My eyes widened in recognition. “That’s right Bolton girl. It was I who shoved my hand inside you and tore the monster from your womb.” She snarled. My face darkened. “It seems we have both lost something at the others hand, only I did not care for what you took from me. But, if you are so desperate to be united with your son again, I’m sure I can arrange it. Guards, take this woman to the cells. Order the men to build a pyre.” I ordered. The men bowed and grabbed the women by the upper arms. “No!” She protested, “I beg you to have mercy on a poor old woman.” She begged.  
“You seem to be willing to use your powers openly, perhaps they can help get you out of this. As for mercy, how can you ask one with devil’s blood for such a thing? Take her away.” I instructed, but the woman planted herself. Stared at me dead in the eyes and tried to straighten herself a little. “I, Dorea Smallwood, servant of the elements, curse you, Leila Bolton, to forever lead a life of cruelty and pain. You will know happiness, but when you think that it will last forever it shall be ripped from you like the beast you bore.” She decreed. Her voice echoed coldly around the hall. Her words crawled up my spine and wrapped around my heart. I refused to shiver. “I am a Bolton. I have known cruelty and pain. I have known happiness and I have had it torn from me. I care little for your curses. Words mean nothing, and you will not live to see if your curse comes true.” I retorted icily.  
“We do not have to be living, to see what our actions lead too.” Was her stony reply. The old witch was dragged from the room. Maester Hallys and Willem Stonehouse looked down at the oak table. A chill had fallen over the room.

I threw the flaming torch onto the pyre myself and watched as the witch was engulfed in flame.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this kind of witchcraft doesn't exist in Westeros and that it's a big step away from it but I just came up with this idea and really wanted to use it. Bare with me as it will all come clear as to why I have added this to the story in the future.


	15. The Bastard Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay returns to the Dreadfort with a gift for Leila. When she presents him with a gift of her own she makes a discovery that is most unexpected.

Now that there were no more rapists, witches and less thieves to deal with, I held a feast. I sat at the high table in my father’s chair. The hall was filled with noise and laughter. There was music that filled the room and some even attempted to start up dancing. The men knew better than to act inappropriately in my presence and so flirting with the serving girls was kept to a minimum. “A peaceful land, a quiet people.” I whispered to myself. I hoped that my father would be pleased.  
I was deep in conversation with Maester Hallys about our recent triumphs when the large wooden doors were thrown open. Silence fell over the room as the Bastard of Bolton returned. I could taste the fear of the diners as they watched him walk down the aisle towards me. He was in a good mood, I could tell by the smirk on his face. I lounged in the chair. I did not move. I watched him with my cold eyes, a smile playing on my lips. “Welcome home brother. We were not expecting you.” I said.  
“My dear sister, might I say what a regal beauty you have when sitting on our father’s chair? Why do you not come to me? No embrace? No kiss?” He asked, looking a little disheartened.  
“I’m comfortable here, thank you brother. You know that the love I bear you cannot be put into actions or words.” I did not wish to anger him. Not now. Not yet. I knew he would come to me later that night. It would be hard enough without him being angered. I had pleased him with my words as he smiled. It was not cruel. It was happy, and that was perhaps even scarier. “I have a gift for you sister, will you allow me to escort you down to the torture chamber? “He asked. There was nothing in his voice that suggested he planned on doing anything brutal to me. I stood from the chair. The whole room watched me as I walked and linked arms with my brother. I could see that they itched to whisper to one another; many now knew the nature of our relationship. Ramsay was eerily pleasant and made light conversation as we travelled down to the torture chamber. He held my hand as the dark tunnels narrowed and did not allow us to walk two abreast. A number of men were waiting for us as we entered the dark room. If I were still able to fear things, I would have refused to enter, but I walked into the room willingly, meeting the eyes of every man in there except one. He was bound to the rack, his head resting on his chest as he had been knocked unconscious. “My gift to you my sister.” Ramsay announced, indicating to the man. I smiled gratefully at Ramsay and walked over to my gift. I lifted his chin and looked at his face. I knew that face; I had seen it a few times when we’d joined Robb Stark’s army, although father had tried to keep me away. This face had a reputation with women.  “Theon Greyjoy.” I muttered smiling. I turned back to Ramsay. “I thought you were to take him to Robb Stark?” I asked. Ramsay smiled sadistically. “Father said that there is to be a change of plans.” He said gleefully. I laughed and smiled at him. Ramsay rushed to me and took my hand. “Come, we shall go upstairs. I have missed you sweet sister.” He looked at me, a hungry desire melting his ice eyes.  
“Of course we shall have our time together.” I said, pressing myself against him and wrapping my fingers in his hair “But first let me show you my gift to you.” I smiled at him wickedly. He watched me as I disappeared through a concealed entrance, returning moments later with a large wooden box. I lowered it at his feet. He looked at me curiously, then opened the box. “Do you like it? It’s the first one I’ve done. I think it’s rather neat considering that it was my first time.” I watched Ramsay’s face as he delicately removed the skin from the box. He looked at it in a mixture of pride and awe before looking at me. “My sister, I knew we were alike in spirit as well as blood! Tell me, whose body did you flay?” He asked excitedly. I moved closer to him and traced my fingers up and down his arm, admiring my work, before looking up at him and began to nuzzle his neck affectionately. “Darling brother.” I whispered in his ear, he tilted his head a little closer to me. I brushed my lips along his jawline and watched him close his eyes and bite his lip. “You fail to notice the whereabouts of your good friend Edwin.” I whispered gently in his ear. Ramsay’s cold eyes snapped open. Beneath the pale skin of his arm I felt the Bolton blood begin to pump.  

When I regained consciousness, my whole body ached. I was tied to one of the racks, in a different room to that of Greyjoy. Ramsay had stripped me so that I was naked and I studied the bruises that were rapidly appearing across my body. “Good morning sister.” Ramsay spat. He sounded angry. He wasn’t usually angry when he’d caught a new prey; he was usually excited. “Is it?” I asked pleasantly, flashing a smile. The aching drifted away. “It isn’t going to be, not for you. Edwin was a good friend of mine. I’m going to make you pay for what you did to him.” He hissed.  
“Oh, make no mistake brother, Edwin and I were close too! In fact he was preparing to spend some quality time with me before he met his unfortunate end.” I said, continuing to smile.  
“Do not say another word or I’ll have your tongue you little whore! I’m going… I’m going to…”  
“To what brother? Kill me?” My voice was daring him to do it, my eyes gleamed like ice in the dimly lit room. For once, Ramsay was speechless. His face a mixture of conflicting emotions and one that appeared, very fleetingly, was hurt. That was when it clicked. “Oh, that’s it. You can’t kill me. You won’t kill me…”My eyes stared into his as his face fell.  
“I have slaughtered men and women almost daily, what makes you think I’ll hesitate to peel the skin from you?” He tried not to stumble over his words.  
“Because you desire me. You want me. You care for me. You love me so much that you are not willing to share me, not even with death.” I gloated. His face was shocked, then angry. He unsheathed his flaying knife and slipped it under the skin of my thigh. He watched expectantly for me to feel pain. I smiled wickedly before crying out, not in pain, but in pleasure. I moaned as Ramsay dragged the knife down my leg. I continued to turn my cries of pain into pleasure until Ramsay stepped away. I smiled at him with evil glee. “Stop it!” He growled.  
“Stop what brother? You have taught me many lessons. You have taught me how to enjoy pain; how to relish it. But the most important lesson that I have learnt from you, dearest brother, is to never care for anything. Now it appears that that is your weakness… no, it appears that _I_ am your weakness.” I snarled. He stepped closer to me, his face only inches away from mine. As I looked into his eyes, I saw the burning hatred turn to burning desire. He leaned his head in and nuzzled my neck. He traced my jawline with his tongue and then pulled away again, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste. “Hmm… yes my sweet sister, you are my weakness.” He moaned. He planted a tender kiss on my lips and then began to press harder, forcing his wet tongue into my mouth. I did not attempt to kiss him back. He then began to kiss along my jaw, down my neck, dragging his lips down my naked body until his tongue found the opening between my legs. I bit down on my lip so hard that I drew blood. A muffled moan escaped from my throat as Ramsay knelt there and, for the first time, did something that pleasured someone other than himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't upload yesterday, I have had exams over the last few days so have been busy panicking about those. Back to the story... yes a different side of Ramsay is coming out! I didn't really plan for it to end in that way but I think it gives the next few paragraphs a bit more substance! Anyway, I hope you like it :)


	16. Reflections and Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rather you than me.” I spat as she fell at my feet, gurgling as her blood spread quickly across the dried leaves. I watched it spread until I could see my reflection in it; turning before I could frighten myself further, for there staring back at me was a female version of my brother.

I had dozed off. Ramsay had left me still tied to the rack once he had finished with me. I felt a mixture of anger and disgust stir inside me as I had allowed myself to give in to him, be pleasured by him. I tried to pull loose. I wanted to undo these ties and use the strips of leather to wrap around his neck. I was about to give up when I heard light footsteps coming from outside the chamber. I froze, listening, trying to identify whose they were. They were too light to be Ramsay's, or any of his men. I relaxed slightly as I realised they were a woman’s footsteps. The door creaked open and Lollys peered into the darkness. “M’lady?” She whispered, stepping into the room she held a flaming torch in front of her, illuminating me and my naked body that was now covered with purple bruises. “M’lady, I’ve come to help you.” She squeaked. I looked up, my head still hung low, my hair loose and tangled, covering my face. “How very kind of you.” I snarled, beginning to shake.  
“Yes, I have brought you clothes and a knife to cut you free.” She said, tiptoeing closer. As though I could strike her. “Well then, cut me loose.” I ordered softly. She smiled, pleased, and cut the leather, first from my wrists, then from my ankles. I stumbled down and began to dress quickly. “Give me the knife.” I ordered. Lollys handed it to me and I tucked it in my belt. “I’ve readied your horse for you m’lady.” She said, leading the way out with the torch. The castle was quiet. Far too quiet. Lollys led me out of the tunnels until we were outside, bathing in the moonlight. True enough, Arianne stood tethered to a tree, fully saddled. “Why have you done this for me?” I asked. The girl looked at her feet, trying to think of something to say. My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You are my mistress.” She muttered.  
“And Ramsay is your master, is he not?” I questioned quietly, smiling. The girl’s eyes filled with fear. “Hush child, I won’t hurt you. Now, tell me, why are you doing this?” I asked kindly.  
“Ramsay ordered me to do it. He said that if I didn’t release you into the woods and then run back to tell him then he would hunt me down instead. Please m’lady, I don’t want to die!” She wailed.  
“Hush now. You know, you should not fear death. Sometimes it can be a blessing.” I soothed. I walked around to stand behind her. “Foolish, silly little whore. Did you not think I knew what you were up to the moment you walked into that chamber?” I stepped closer so that I stood right behind her. “I’ve known you long enough to know that you are too stupid to create such a plan. The castle is too quiet and the escape was too easy.” I withdrew the knife from my belt. “But I must thank you for informing me on my brother’s plan, I know what needs to be done. I’m sorry that you wished not to die but…” I slid the blade across her pale throat. “Rather you than me.” I spat as she fell at my feet, gurgling as her blood spread quickly across the dried leaves. I watched it spread until I could see my reflection in it; turning before I could frighten myself further, for there staring back at me was a female version of my brother. She smiled sadistically at me, her ghost-grey eyes glinting in the moonlight.

We galloped until the sky began to lighten. I pulled up slowly. Arianne’s sides were heaving and my eyes streamed from the cold wind that had lashed at me as we flew through the night. The woods stretched on for miles ahead of us; the horizon nothing but the dark shadows of trees. I knew these woods and how easy it was to panic and think that you had gone around in circles, it was merely a trick of light and shadows. It would end eventually. I let Arianne have her head and she lowered it, lengthening her stride to stretch her weary limbs. I stroked her neck “Thank you Arianne. I suppose that you too wish to put as many miles between you and Blood as I do my brother.” I joked. Ramsay’s violent steed had taken to whinnying to her whenever he saw her, to which Arianne’s reaction was to squeal and flatten her ears. Luckily for her, Blood was kept in separate accommodations. He would not come visiting at night like his owner did. I steered her in the direction of the sound of a stream and allowed her to drink from it. The water was so clean that I watched as the pebbles laughed on the bottom. I dismounted, cupped some water in my hands and raised it to my lips, taking a long slow drink of the icy liquid. When I looked back down at the stream, Ramsay’s sister stared back at me. Her eyes were colder than the water, her skin paler than moonlight and she had a smile that sent a shiver up my back. I slapped the surface of the water; sending her away on the ripples. Arianne’s head shot up, alert. Her ears twitched. “I did not mean to frighten you…” I began. Then I heard a sound. An awful sound. The baying of hounds was getting rapidly closer. I remounted, there was no need to urge her, Arianne was off and galloping again before I had even put both feet in the stirrups. “How did he catch up so quickly?” I cried, looking back over my shoulder. I did not look in front of me before it was too late. A rope was pulled taught across the path. Arianne didn’t see it before it was too late either. She flipped over, with her front legs tangled up in the rope. I was thrown clear before her bulk had hit the earth. The wind was knocked from my lungs and I was unable to move for a second. I struggled onto my hands and knees as I heard my horse scream with fear and anger as she became more entangled. As I began to crawl towards her, I was knocked onto my back by two black dogs. “Shit.” I muttered. I stayed on the ground. The dogs did not bite or lick, they just sat there and patiently waited for their master. “A fine catch brother.” Came a man’s voice. “Fine horse that, we’d better cut it free before it breaks a leg.” The soft voice came again.  
“What’s it matter? We’re just going to eat it anyway!” The other man growled.  
“No!” I cried. It was then that the two men must’ve noticed me. “Well what do we have here?” The second man growled again. “She looks pretty.” He said.  
“No Manfred, we will not behave as our brother did.” The other ordered.  
“Speak for yourself. If you wish to remain celibate then fuck off to the night's watch. It is no wish of mine.” The second man spat. My Bolton blood boiled at the thought of him touching me. This had been what I had wished to escape. “If you take one more step towards me I will make death look pleasant.” I growled, rising from the Earth. The dogs began to bark again but a cold look from me silenced them both. The two men looked at me in stunned silence. The man who had been called Manfred was short, hunched and scrawny wearing rags that made it hard to define where his legs and body separated. The other was tall, lean and well-muscled wearing nothing but cut off breeches. They both had bright green eyes. I was too angry to notice it all at first. “Your eyes.” Manfred whispered, “Those eyes! Brother, we have ourselves a Bolton girl.” He snarled. The tall one continued to stare at me in confusion. Manfred began to stalk towards me. I tried to run to Arianne but he leaned down and grabbed my ankle, pulling it out from beneath me. “No, please, let me go to her, she needs my help!” I cried angrily. Arianne whinnied weakly behind me when she heard my voice. Manfred ignored my plea and flipped me round to face him. He began to adjust his rags. “I’m going to fuck you up like you did my brother, and then I’m going to roast you alive like you did my mother. You evil little whore.” He spat.  
“I don’t think so.” I growled. I unsheathed the knife from my belt and plunged it into his leg. Manfred howled with pain and hopped away. I scrabbled over to Arianne who nickered to me as I began to frantically cut away the rope. “I’ll make you pay for that you fucking bitch.” I heard Manfred cry. I turned to see him start to limp towards me, his green eyes dark with anger. “Enough Manfred!” Ordered the taller one. When his brother paid him no heed, the man raised his hand and thrust it in the direction of his brother. The action sent Manfred flying into a tree. He crumpled onto the earth, out cold. I looked at the man warily before turning my attention back to Arianne. She got up haughtily once she was cut free, as though she were annoyed at being so humiliated. I heard the man chuckle behind me. “And what do you find so funny?” I spat angrily.  
“Your horse, she has spirit.” He smiled.  
“Yes, so?” I shrugged. He pulled at a patch of grass. I began to lead Arianne away. She was very stiff, lame on one of her front legs. “Shit.” I whispered, feeling the leg for any heat.  
“You’ll need something for that.” The man piped up. He jogged, barefoot, over to Manfred and removed a small phial of clear liquid. “Here, three drops each day until she is better.” He said, holding the bottle out for me to take.  
“I don’t need your help.” I replied bluntly.  
“I’m not helping you, I’m helping your horse.” He retorted.  
“How do I know that it’s not poisoned? You and your brother are obviously out for revenge against me.”  
“If I’d wanted you dead, I would have killed you within a minute of figuring out who you were. Besides, I don’t punish innocents.” I think that was meant to insult me, I certainly took it that way.  
“I don’t support my brother in his games.” I cried.  
“I never said you did.” He replied half-heartedly, more focused on stroking Arianne. “She’s a sweet mare.” He muttered.  
“She killed a man once.” I said.  
“So have you. But you know what they say, the horse is a reflection of the rider.” He smiled again.  
“I’m not weak.” I argued.  
“I never said you were. Caring is not a weakness…”  
“Yes, it is. The more you care the more you lose.” I said sternly “Now if you don’t mind, I must be going.” I began to lead Arianne away when the man grabbed my hand.  
“Be sure to think of me, sweet, caring lady.” He jested.  
“I think that’s rather unlikely.” I mumbled.  
“You’ll be surprised. If there is ever a time you wish for answers, be sure to look for me.” He grinned, planting a quick kiss on my hand. I snatched it away. “Answers to what? I have no questions?” I asked sharply.  
“No, not yet anyway. I wish you a safe passage to the Twins. If your brother passes by I’ll be sure to send him in the wrong direction.” He called. I continued to walk away, agonisingly slowly as Arianne hobbled along beside me. The air had turned cold and the clouds had darkened. “It looks as if we are in for snow.” I muttered.   


	17. What Father Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She did not fight death. She closed her eyes and fell with a morbid grace to the floor. Roose turned at the sound of the wooden doors opening, allowing the smoke from outside to drift into the room. A figure moved through the thick clouds.

 ***

_“The Lannister’s send their regards.” Roose Bolton spat, thrusting his dagger deep into Robb’s heart. He stepped back as the young wolf crumbled to the floor. His mother, Catelyn, cried out behind him as she watched her son’s life leak out of the wound. Roose turned to see her slash her knife across the throat of Lady Frey’s throat. She stood there, tears on her face, not noticing when one of Walder Frey’s men stepped up behind her and cut her own throat. She did not fight death. She closed her eyes and fell with a morbid grace to the floor. Roose turned at the sound of the wooden doors opening, allowing the smoke from outside to drift into the room. A figure moved through the thick clouds. Roose was then distracted by a surviving Stark soldier crawling across the floor, fighting death the entire time, the man grabbed a crossbow from a dead man’s hand. He aimed it directly at Roose with a longing for revenge in his eyes, a longing to avenge his king. However, before he could pull the trigger, the mysterious figure plunged a knife into his back. They then kicked him onto his back and silenced him with one final stab in his chest. The figure stepped over the body. “Guards!” Lord Frey croaked. The men that stood on the balconies that overlooked the scene of devastation below, turned and aimed their crossbows at the figure, fingers ready on the triggers. The figure stopped. “Hello father.” A girl’s voice rang out around the room. Strong and confident, an amused tone in her voice. “Order your men to put down their weapons, she means us no harm.” Roose Bolton ordered. The smoke began to clear. Before him stood his only daughter Leila. Though she was barely recognisable. Her hair was even messier than usual, she was covered in blood and dirt, the flesh that was not covered by clothing was yellow and purple from bruises. Besides all that, she was taller, she looked older. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on the celebrations.” She mocked, smiling wickedly.  
“Lord Frey,” Roose turned to where Walder Frey sat comfortably drinking wine at the high table “it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to my daughter, Leila Bolton.” He indicated to Leila. She walked forward and stood beside him, giving him a small curtsey. “My Lord.” Leila said, still smiling. She stared long and hard into the dangerous black eyes of Lord Frey._

_***_

 I would not be the first to look away. I continued to smile until Walder Frey’s mouth also stretched into a crooked smile. “Your daughter has a talent for drama Lord Bolton.” The old man chuckled. I too laughed quietly. I felt my father’s eyes on me but I refused to meet his gaze. I instead looked at the bodies on the floor. Robb Stark lay beside his common wife, blood seeped from her stomach, spreading and drying to form a crust on her blue woollen gown. I then looked over to Lady Cat. She lay there motionless in a pool of her own blood. A girl I used to know had sat with that woman whilst they waited for the men they cared for return back to them safely from battle. I didn’t know that girl anymore. I found myself smiling at the corpse. The doors behind me opened and more men came in. They grabbed the King’s corpse, sliced off his head with his own sword, a large weapon made of Valyrian steel. Ice was thrown aside as the men lifted the head of its owner and stuffed it into a sack whilst they attached the head of a wolf to the decapitated body. Grey Wind’s tongue hung out of its gaping mouth, his eyes were open but they did not see. The men dragged the body back out chanting “The King in the North!” repeatedly. I turned to my father, still smiling. “Looks like he could be killed after all.” I jested. Father looked at me sternly. We turned as we heard Walder Frey chuckling to himself. “I like her Lord Bolton. She’s got spirit.” He said, still laughing. “It looks as though I’m in need of a new wife.” Walder Frey continued, watching me closely. My father stepped forward to say something but I cut him off. “With respect Lord Frey, as tempting as it may be, perhaps it would be best to wait for your late wife to turn cold before you search for a new one. Besides, my brother would not be happy if I did not return home.” I said sweetly, I turned to face my father “Especially if it was because I belonged to someone else.” I stared into father’s cold eyes meaningfully.  
“Well, you are welcome to stay. It appears we have spare rooms for the night.” Walder Frey laughed sadistically.  
“I thank you for your kindness Lord Frey.” I said, still looking at father.  
“If you will excuse us my lord, my daughter and I have much to discuss.” My father said sternly. I followed him from the room.

We stood on the battlements and watched the tents and bodies burn below. It looked as though the whole world was on fire. “Why are you here?” He asked softly.  
“Do you wish for me to leave?” I questioned not looking at him.  
“I did not wish for you to see this.” He muttered sternly.  
“You leave me with Ramsay and you think that I will be bothered by watching my father kill someone?” I asked incredulously.  
“Someone you cared about.” He reasoned.  
“No. I don’t. I don’t care.” I replied. He looked at me quizzically. “Of course you did.”  
“Not anymore. A girl I used to know cared for them. She died at the Dreadfort.” I spat disdainfully.  
“What do you mean?” He asked darkly.  
“I mean that Ramsay stabbed her and allowed his poison to spread until it ripped her apart.” I looked him dead in the eyes when I said it. He looked back at me coldly. “Do not speak to me of ruining someone’s innocence. I know all about it.” I looked back to the earth that burned below us. There was silence as we watched. “You killed a man too.” Father said.  
“He wasn’t the first.” I replied, smiling.  
“Do you feel it stir within you when you grow angry?” He asked.  
“The Bolton blood? Yes. It’s what keeps me going. Knowing that I get to feel it. Knowing that that was what you wanted.” He nodded. It had been what he wanted. “Shame that it cost me so much to get it.” I muttered. He said nothing. I wasn’t sure if he had any idea. I knew that the Bastards boys worked truly for him but I doubted that they would have told him everything. “Those bruises on your arms…”  
“Ramsay.” I replied sharply. The name was bitter on my tongue. “He let you go?” Father asked.  
“Do you really think that he would just let me go?” I cried. Did father know nothing at all about his own son? There was a long pause again. He just looked at me, took me in. “I expect you are to be made Lord of the North now?” I asked sharply.  
“Now that the Starks are gone…”  
“Not all of them.” I cut in.  
“No, but Sansa Stark is Sansa Lannister now. And Theon Greyjoy murdered the rest.” He said. I bit my lip. He looked back at the wreckage below. “So Ramsay will become Lord of the North when you die?” I asked quietly.  
“Perhaps. But I am to bring my wife back with us to the Dreadfort. She will stay with us. But that might not matter, we might find another way to make and alliance with the Frey’s now.” Father raised an eyebrow at me.  
“If you dare offer me in marriage to Lord Frey I will smother him in his sleep and then I’ll come for you.” I threatened, the laughter gone. My father watched me curiously. I allowed the anger to fade away, my blood cooled. “Ramsay would never allow it.” I mumbled.  
“Ramsay does not get a say.” Father replied softly. My look spoke a thousand dark words. “I suppose you’ll have a true heir soon enough with Walda.” I muttered.  
“None of them will reach adulthood. Ramsay won’t let them.” Father said coldly.  
“Well he killed your last two.” I spat. He didn't look at me. “Yes. Yes I think he did.” Was his reply.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I haven't put a chapter up for a while, I've been busy preparing for exams this week. I also really struggled with this chapter. I though it should be about Leila's journey to the Twins but I couldn't think of anything that could happen so I pressed fast forward. I'm still not very happy with it but it's gone in the direction I need it to so it'll do! I have an ending for the story in mind now so I am going to start working towards that. Please leave comments, bookmark it or give it kudos if you think it's worthy :)


	18. Green with Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila when alone with her thoughts thinks about her journey to the Twins and recalls a new and unexpected acquaintance.

I was shown to my chamber by my father as many of the maidservants had hidden until the fighting was over. The room was bare, but there was a bed with sheets and enough layers to keep me warm. It was better than the hard ground I had been sleeping on the past few nights. “I trust you will be comfortable. My own chambers are not too far away.” Father said gravely. I just nodded. He walked out of the room without another word and closed the door as I sat down on the relatively soft bed. I could still hear the fires burning outside. I laid back without removing any clothing; I couldn’t sleep with all that was going around my head. Every time I closed my eyes I would see eyes staring back at me. Grey eyes full of anger, fear, sadness and revenge. I had first seen them earlier on that evening when I had been waiting for the right time to make my entrance. No one had seen me as I had crouched down and waited outside the stables. Once I’d heard the Rains of Castamere begin to play, I had crawled closer, sticking to the shadows. That was when I had noticed her. At first I thought it was a boy. Her grey eyes had widened in horror when the Bolton and Frey men came out and began to attack the Stark men. I had watched her as the men ran out and fired crossbows at Grey Wind. She had run forward and crouched behind a table but stood when she had summoned courage from her anger. That was when she had seen me; her eyes filled with fear and pain. Somewhere deep down in me, something stirred. Before me was a child, a young girl, a young girl who was allowing someone that her brother mistakenly trusted murder him in cold blood. I understood. I had been there too. The girl ran towards the door but was knocked to the floor by a large man, half his face had melted and was grotesquely warped. “Sorry, but this is no place for a Stark.” The big man had said, before he had slung her over his shoulder and carried her off. I watched as Arya Stark was carried away; her chance of being reunited with her mother and brother fading with every step. That was when I had slipped into the great hall.

The journey here had been slow and treacherous. Moat Cailin had been taken under control of Ironborn men, meaning that I’d had to smuggle myself through. Considering my bedraggled appearance and the horse that still stumbled and lipped every few steps, it had been easier than I had first anticipated. The men there had already heard rumours of Ramsay’s treatment of Theon and even they had seemed shocked at the violence and cruelty of it. I smiled every time I heard them talk about it; it reminded me of the horror stories that must be told about the Dreadfort. This new one was enough to scare fully grown Ironborn’s. After I had smuggled myself through Moat Cailin I was unsure of where to go. The man had mentioned something about the Twins. But what would Robb Stark have wanted there? I soon found out when I reached a small village that Robb Starks army had passed through a few weeks ago. Lord Walder Frey had heard of Robb’s marriage to Talisa and so had ordered for another bridegroom as a compromise. Catelyn’s brother, Edmure Tully was to marry one of Walder Frey’s daughters. The man had been right; Robb Stark’s army was headed for the Twins. I had also given in and tried the potion he had given me on Arianne; the going had been too slow and Robb and my Father could’ve made it all the way to Kings Landing before we reached the Twins. The potion had taken effect within days. Arianne was able to gallop with the speed and grace that she’d had when she was five years younger. The man appeared to be right about almost everything.  

I was asleep when he came. I sat up when I heard him open the door; his green eyes burned in the darkness. The man was still dressed in only his breeches. “What on earth are you doing here?” I whispered angrily as he padded over to me  
“I had to see you, to know that you had made it here safely.” He replied. He stood by the edge of the bed, his eyes still glowed eerily in the darkness. “How is that any business of yours?” I asked.  
“Because…” He planted his lips on mine. Softly at first, checking my reaction. He pulled away, his breath was sweet and he smelled of fresh flowers and earth that overwhelmed me. It was I that then leaned in and kissed him, harder this time. Desire raged in me; I had never felt it before. I had never wanted anyone so much before. His eyes told me that he wanted it as much as I as he removed his breeches. Tenderly, he moved back the sheets and removed my clothes. Before he even thought of pleasing himself, he saw to me. He kissed me long and deeply until I was out of breath. He then moved down to my breasts, nuzzling and sucking on my nipples until they hardened to his touch. He continued down until he reached to between my thighs. He was always gentle and asked my permission before pushing into me. He was the complete opposite to Ramsay; where Ramsay was rough and selfish, this man was tender, caring, loving and always had his focus on me, making sure that I was fulfilled. I gasped in delight as I felt him harden within me. I wrapped my legs around him, driving him into me, asking him to push harder. He would always oblige. Something stirred in me besides my desire. Never before had a man touched me in this way, nor treated me lovingly and with compassion. He was not using me as a whore to please himself with, he was treating me as though I were important, and that I mattered to him. He rode me with grace and to please me, not to torture or cause me pain. This feeling pleased me even more than having him inside of me. Almost too soon after it had begun, it was over. He rolled away reluctantly, planting a kiss softly on my lips. He got up from the bed and put his breeches back on. “Stay.” I whispered in his ear, resting my chin on his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. “As tempting as it is, my love, you must wake now.” Was his reply.

My eyes snapped open. I was lying fully clothed and alone on the bed in the unfamiliar room my father had left me in. I scanned the room; there was no sign that anyone had been there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, I wasn't to sure what to put in this chapter but I had known how I'd wanted it to end so I didn't want to go further than there.


	19. A Warm Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila's dreams continue, getting stronger and more intoxicating each night. She returns to the Dreadfort, but finds Ramsay a changed man. The welcome she receives is not what she expected.

He continued to come to me in my dreams. He would always be there, waiting until sleep came. It became rougher and more heated, but he would still work until he had pleased me before rolling away and telling me to wake up. Then I would sit up in bed alone and shaking from the thrill of it all. Sometimes during the day I would feel angry with myself. It was only a dream. Yet it felt so real, so pure and perfect. Then I would feel angry with him for coming to me, but the moment I saw him, the moment I felt our flesh touch I was lost to him. During the day, I would long for night to come so that I could leave the company of Walder Frey’s dull daughters and granddaughters that were always so proper and I doubt had many thoughts like mine running through their heads. They certainly didn’t look like they did as they sat there stitching and sewing. No wonder my father’s wife was so fat, she hardly ever moved! Thankfully they never asked for me to join in. When the nights came I would have my own fun in my dreams with him. I grew bolder and more adventurous. I would be on top and he would allow me to take control. One night I’d asked him his name. “Cole.” He groaned as I took him in my mouth “My name is Cole.”

We left the Twins in less than two weeks. We said very little to one another about it but I could tell that father was anxious to return home and discover what Ramsay had done to Theon. I too was curious. He had looked in a pretty bad state when I had last seen him, and that was after only a day with Ramsay. Father was also angry when I informed him that we would have to smuggle ourselves through Moat Cailin. As we were alone in his chambers, it was I that he took his anger out on. He raged at me but I said nothing. He hit me and I did not cower. I doubted that he had even noticed my response. I wasn’t sure if it was because I had changed, or if he had changed. He was not as kind or lenient as he had once been. He got angry more quickly. Not that it bothered me; I had seen far worse. The one person he did not seem to lose his temper with was Fat Walda. Whether it was due to her ability to keep her mouth shut or because she simply did her duty and nothing more, my father seemed fond of her. I found her as more of an irritant. She did try to converse with me and find out if we had any similar interests. We had none and her voice irritated me. I believe that she was a little intimidated by me too. Despite me witnessing and enduring most of my father’s outbursts, it appeared I was still the one that he confided in. He never raised his voice at Walda. When we rode home, it was I that rode beside father until we met with his best hunter, Locke. Then I was demoted to riding beside Walda for the rest of the journey. I tried not to laugh when Arianne would snap unexpectedly at her horse and make them both jump.

***

_Ramsay waited in the cold stone court yard. A rider had come some few minutes ago, informing him that his father was close by. Ramsay had not asked about his sister in case he gave anything away. He’d been furious when she’d managed to escape. But that had quickly subsided. The girl he’d returned to had been different to the one he’d first met in this very courtyard. The girl he’d returned to had the same look in her ghost grey eyes as he did. Although he’d been furious that she had flayed Edwin, he couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship of it all. It had made him want her even more. Yes, he had Myranda who loved to cause pain and suffering and to play games just as much as he did. But Leila was different. They shared that blood that bubbled within them when they sensed fear. She did not fully understand what power she could have over people but she was almost there. She no longer feared anything. If he could just teach her the games that he liked to play. If he could just hold her again. If he could just run his fingers through her long soft hair and call her his. He wanted to hear her moan with pleasure when he caused her pain like she had done when he’d flayed her beautiful thigh…  
Hoof beats brought him back to the courtyard and out of his dreams. His cold eyes fixed on the entrance as the doors were thrown open and his father’s horse cantered in and spun around in a tight circle. His best hunter Locke pulled up beside him. Ramsay grinded his teeth as he tried to spot her face. Men rushed forward to help a large woman, who could only be his father’s wife Fat Walda, dismount ungracefully from her horse. Ramsay watched her curiously as she rearranged her skirts and stumbled clumsily forward. His father dismounted with grace and strode confidently towards him, his chin tilted up. There was still no sign of Leila. A young boy Ramsay had not seen before stood silently behind Roose. “Father, welcome home.” Ramsay said sternly with a slight nod of his head to show some respect. Roose stopped in front of him, his wife stood at his side. “Walda this is Ramsay Snow, my bastard.” Roose informed. Ramsay tried to bury the anger. He’d save it for Reek later. He smiled and stepped forward. “A pleasure, mother.” He said, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He could smell her thick flesh and so stepped away quickly. The fat woman looked a little shocked and muttered a high pitched “Hello.” At him. Ramsay stepped away, still smiling at her. “How fun she would be to flay. What a challenge it would be.” He thought. “See that the horses are fed, watered, rubbed down and take lady Walda to her chambers.” His father ordered. Ramsay had already considered this. The maid he had ordered to stay there all morning stepped forward and said “This way m’lady.” Before leading Lady Walda away. Ramsay watched her walk away. Yes, what a challenge it would be._

***

I watched him as he smiled after Lady Walda, thinking about how much fun it would be to peel the skin from her body. He still hadn’t recognised me. “Where is your prize?” Father asked, taking a step towards Ramsay. Ramsay’s ice glistened with pride. “With the hounds.” He said. Father did not react to that, nor did I. I didn’t know what to expect of Theon and so I had prepared myself not to be surprised at anything. “I’ll have a look at him.” Father said. I followed behind, smiling to myself as I slipped, unnoticed, past Ramsay. What fun that was to slip right under his nose. I looked back as he greeted Locke with a sadistic smile and a rough handshake. “I hear you took a hand from the Kingslayer!” Ramsay said cheerfully. I turned as they both headed my way, following father. “Word travels! How he screamed. You would have loved it.” Locke replied, hooking an arm around Ramsay’s shoulder. Ramsay laughed at the thought.

I didn’t follow father to his chambers. I wanted to see Ramsay first. I wanted to know the anger and rage he felt towards me and to revel in it as I taunted him. I hid outside the kennels and waited until he had passed me by as I hid in the shadows. He had his back to me when I appeared in the doorway. “You didn’t welcome me home, brother.” I called, smiling. Ramsay stopped in his tracks. He turned sharply, saying nothing. He took all of me in in disbelief. My cropped hair and bedraggled clothes. He said nothing as he strode towards me. I waited for him to beat me. I would not flinch. Instead, Ramsay gently held my face and pressed his lips to mine. He was gentle at first, then he became harder, pressing me up against the cold wall. I could feel him harden against my thigh. “No.” I muttered breathlessly, pushing him away. His face was still one of disbelief. “Sister, I have missed you. What has been done to you?” He asked, fingering a shortened strand of hair. He sounded as though he cared. “Y-you will find out soon enough.” I stammered, still shocked. “I should go.” I mumbled and turned away before he could kiss me again. I tried to regain my composure before I re-joined Locke and my Father in his chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know it's not very Ramsay. I was listening to some really beautiful music that sounded really hopeful so that kind of inspired this chapter.


	20. A Close Shave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila and her father learn some new information from an unexpected source.

Father was sitting in a chair by the fireplace when I walked in. He looked up at me, expecting Ramsay. “I hardly recognised you with that hair my lady.” Locke grunted as he sharpened his sword by the window. I said nothing. I was still too shocked to speak after seeing Ramsay. I sat down behind father’s desk and stared into space. Ramsay’s voice made me jump. “Father.” He said and turned to look at the creature beside him. The room filled with the scent of dogs and piss. The creature that stood beside Ramsay twitched nervously, looking at his feet. He couldn’t stand straight and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He was dressed in rags that looked as though they hadn’t been changed for months and his hair was beginning to whiten. I ignored the impulse to cover my nose. Father stood quickly from his chair and strolled towards the creature that Ramsay roughly pushed forward. The thing grunted but still did not look up at my father who looked him up and down, taking in the state of him. I wondered how he could stand the smell that was coming from Theon. “What did you do to him?” Father asked, not looking away from Theon.  
“I trained him. He was a slow learner, but he learned.” Ramsay informed, his eyes also on Theon who continued to stare at the floor.  
“You’ve flayed him.” Father sighed, finally looking at Ramsay.  
“Peeled a few bits. Removed a few others.” Ramsay replied, picking at his fingers. The look in his eyes was one of amusement. He looked at Locke who chuckled quietly. Then he chanced a quick glance at me. I smiled at the thought of the proud Kraken in Ramsay’s hands. Father did not seem to find the whole thing as amusing as I. He stepped around Theon to get Ramsay’s attention; looking him straight in the eyes with his cold dead glare. “This was Balon Greyjoy’s son and heir.” He pointed out quietly.  
“We’ve been flaying our enemies for a thousand years. The flayed man is on our banners…”  
“My banners, not yours. You’re not a Bolton you’re a Snow.” My father cut in as Ramsay began to raise his voice. I tried not to smile at Ramsay being put in his place. Father walked away from him. Ramsay glanced at me quickly and I could see the anger in his eyes. He looked away as father continued. “Tywin Lannister has given me the North, but he won’t lift a finger to help me take it.” He announced, striding over to the map he had in his chambers. “As long as the Ironborn hold Moat Cailin, our armies are trapped south of the neck.” He informed, indicating to Moat Cailin on the map. I watched Theon as my father mentioned the Ironborn men that were holding Moat Cailin. He didn’t react to hearing the name of his people. “Theon was a valuable hostage, not your plaything. I wanted to trade him for Moat Cailin.” My father spat.  
“I already asked. Lord Greyjoy refused.” Ramsay looked away from father. There was something he hadn’t told him, I could tell that much. “Savages have…”  
“You sent terms to Balon Greyjoy without my consent.” My father cut in coldly.  
“You made me act in Lord of the Dreadfort. I acted.” Argued Ramsay. My father strode back over to him. Ramsay watched him warily. “I had to smuggle myself into my own lands thanks to the Greyjoys.” Father informed. I twisted my short hair around my fingers as I remembered hacking it off to get past the Ironborn men. “I needed Theon. I needed him _whole_.” Father’s voice was almost a whisper now. Ramsay smiled sadistically. “Theon, was our enemy, but Reek, Reek would never betray us.” Ramsay said. I then recalled a distant memory that belonged to someone else. The scent of a stinking servant that, no matter how hard he washed, continued to smell until he was thrown outside with the dogs. I remembered him being sent away to live with a now dead girls bastard brother. “I place far too much trust in you.” My father muttered. He walked away from Ramsay who watched him angrily. He looked at me again and then made a decision. “Reek, how could you let me stand before my father unshaven? It’s disrespectful.” Ramsay said to the twitching Reek.   
“Sorry m’lord.” The creature muttered. Ramsay glared at my father’s back. “Give him the razor.” Ramsay ordered, wetting his face with water. I glanced at father, wondering if he knew what was going on. He didn’t look at me. Ramsay sat down heavily in the chair beside the fireplace. Father watched him curiously. “I’m not a Bolton father. What does it matter?” Ramsay said. My eyes flickered from Ramsay to Theon suspiciously. Ramsay would never admit that he was not a Bolton unless it was part of a trick or a game. Father nodded at Locke, who then gave Theon the razor. The creature hurried back to Ramsay with the bowl of shaving foam and the razor. “Go on Reek. A nice, close, shave.” Ramsay ordered pointedly. Theon, or ‘Reek’, did not hesitate to do what was asked. With the few fingers that remained on his right hand, he shakily brushed on the foam. Locke, Father and I watched on in curiosity. I clutched tightly at the wooden arms of the chair when Theon picked up the razor. “Reek, tell father, where are Bran and Rickon Stark?” Ramsay asked, his eyes closed as Theon swiped away the foam with the knife.  
“I don’t know m’lord.” Theon replied immediately.  
“You murdered them. And displayed their corpses at Winterfell.” Father said knowingly. I could see Ramsay trying to hold back his smile. “Reek, did you murder the Stark boys?” He asked, his tone of voice indicating that he had already thought to find this out.  
“No m’lord, just two farm boys.” Theon said shakily.  
“And crisped them so no one would know.”  
“Yes m’lord.” Theon replied. My father’s eyebrows raised slightly on learning the new information. Ramsay looked up at father. “The Starks have always ruled the north.” He said, tilting his head back again. “If Bran and Rickon are alive, the country will rally to their side. Now that Robb Stark is gone…” Ramsay’s eyes flew open as Theon stopped the knife halfway up his neck. I tensed in my seat as I saw him grip the blade tighter. The creature looked at Ramsay in shock and began to shake more. “Oh, that’s right Reek. Robb Stark is dead. I’m sorry, I know he was like a brother to you, but my father put a knife through his heart.” Ramsay informed, staring deeply into Theon’s eyes. Theon began to whimper. “How do you feel about that?” Ramsay asked. I was tensed on the edge of my seat, watching the cold steal against Ramsay’s pale neck. At that moment I did not know what I wanted. I knew that I should want Theon to cut into the flesh and let Ramsay’s life flow from him. But I didn’t want it despite knowing that I should. I was ready to pounce and knock Theon to the ground if he made any move. The creature whimpered a little more. Ramsay watched him. I sat back in my chair as the blade began to gently glide across Ramsay’s chin again. I felt sickened by the unwanted relief that rushed through me. My father turned to Locke. “Are you ready for a hunt?” He asked.  
“Always.” Replied Locke, excited by the prospect.  
“Find those boys and I’ll give you a thousand acres and a holdfast.” Father promised, turning back to Ramsay.  
“Your pet rat have any source on which way they went after Winterfell?” Locke asked. I saw Ramsay look up at Theon, telling him to answer without having to say a word. “Jon Snow’s at Castle Black.” Theon twitched, looking as though he were about to weep.  
“Who the fuck’s Jon Snow?” Locke questioned, turning to my father for an answer.  
“Their bastard brother. He could be sheltering them. He may know where they are.” Father answered without looking away from Ramsay and Theon. I sat back, watching the scene in silence. “Even if he doesn’t, he’s half Stark himself. Could be a threat.” Ramsay stood and walked over to father, wiping away the remnants of shaving foam from his freshly shaven face. “You want to prove yourself a Bolton? Gather what men you can and ride for Moat Cailin. Bring this creature of yours, maybe he’ll be of some use.” Father ordered, to my disbelief. He took another step towards Ramsay. “Take the Moat for the family. For our family, and I’ll reconsider your position.” Father said. Ramsay smiled wickedly. With a final nod and glance at me, Ramsay left the room, followed by Locke. I stayed where I was. Father turned and looked at me, then turned back to his table. “And do you have any orders for me?” I asked. He didn’t even turn to look at me. “No. You may accompany your brother if you so wish.” He was expecting me to argue.  
“Gladly.” I surprised myself with my reply. _“What are you doing?!”_ A small voice screamed inside of me. I ignored her. She was dead to me. Father looked at me, surprised, before nodding quickly. I had expected him to say no, that he had only been joking. It appeared he cared little about what I did. I left him alone in his room without another word.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So these past two chapters are basically from Episode 2, Season 4. I know that copying them seems a bit lazy but I couldn't help but watch those scenes and think "What would Leila do if she were there, what would she be thinking?" so I used those scenes and added her in. It will eventually go back to the storyline of ASOIAF. Also, I am choosing to model Ramsay on Iwan Rheon's interpretation from the show as I find it easier to visualise.


	21. Shameful Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was on me almost as soon as I walked into my room. The moment I shut the door Ramsay strode towards me and pinned me against the door. “Hello sister.” He said before kissing me deeply. Like earlier, it started lightly and then became rougher. Unlike earlier, I didn’t resist. I didn’t do nothing. I found myself pressing up against him, entwining my fingers in his thick brown hair.

He was on me almost as soon as I walked into my room. The moment I shut the door Ramsay strode towards me and pinned me against the door. “Hello sister.” He said before kissing me deeply. Like earlier, it started lightly and then became rougher. Unlike earlier, I didn’t resist. I didn’t do nothing. I found myself pressing up against him, entwining my fingers in his thick brown hair. He pulled away when he felt me kiss back. His eyes first searched my face curiously, then he smiled. I smiled back. Desire burned through me as I kissed him again hungrily. _“Stop. This is wrong. Stop it now!”_ She screamed inside of me. I ignored her, my desire suffocating her words as Ramsay pushed me roughly towards the bed. He removed his shirt but I grabbed his hand as he began to undo my breeches. “What about my maids?” I asked. It was midday and Myranda and Alerie would soon arrive to ensure I was settled. “They will not bother us.” He whispered and tried to kiss me again. I put my finger on his lips to stop him. “Father will hear.” I said. He sighed irritably and rolled away to lie beside me. “Forgive me brother. We will have our time together, I promise.” I said, turning onto my side to face him, running my hand across his bare chest. He did nothing for a minute. I waited for him to lash out. To my surprise, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and smiled. “I will return to you tonight. And we shall go on a hunt together soon. I have missed you sweet sister.” He said, kissing my head. I said nothing for I did not know what to say. It dawned on me now my desire had cooled that I had almost willingly lied with my brother. Yet still excitement stirred when I thought of him coming to me tonight.

I could hardly eat at dinner. Lady Walda quietly asked if I was unwell. I did not reply, just smiled as I saw her face turn red with humiliation when I ignored her question. I turned to father who did not look back at me as I spoke. “May I be excused father?” I asked, my voice flat. Father just nodded. I smiled knowingly at Ramsay as I stood and left, sensing his eyes watching me as I went. I hurried to my bed chambers, speeding up my walk as I left the great hall. Myranda was there turning back the sheets when I walked in. “M’lady.” She bobbed a curtsey before turning back to her work. I scanned the room. Besides her it was empty. “Where’s Alerie?” I asked coldly.  
“Gone.” She stated casually.  
“Gone? Do you care to elaborate on that?” I narrowed my eyes.  
“She was a bore to hunt. Too slow. Ramsay didn’t enjoy it at all. You won’t find any bitches named after her.” She smiled at me cruelly and then turned to the windows, shaking out the curtains. I was behind her quicker than she had expected. I grabbed her tightly by the neck. “You might be Ramsay’s whore. He might enjoy you. I’m back now. How long do you think he is going to keep you for now? Hm?” I shook her so that her head hit the wall and she cried out in pain. “When he’s tired of you, which I can guarantee will be soon, I will join him when he hunts you down. I’m not that pathetic little girl anymore, she’s dead. I know how to play the game. I’ve told you before, you do not want to fuck with me.” My face was so close to hers that I could smell the wine that she had drunk at dinner. I saw fear flicker in her eyes. Unlike Ramsay, she could not use her cunt to calm me. I smiled as I heard footsteps coming from the hall. “You may go. Go find a man to please.” I heard the footsteps stop outside my door. “Perhaps my brother will let you play with his Reek while we have some time together.” I joked. Myranda left as Ramsay opened the door and walked in. He didn’t acknowledge her. He stood there and waited for the door to close behind her. He smiled as soon as we heard the latch click shut. “Father has gone to his chambers with Lady Walda.” He said.  
“And I have ordered Myranda to find other company for the night.” I replied. His smile widened and he strode towards me. He grabbed me roughly around the waist and kissed me, pressing me to his body. “And… what about Theon.” I breathed between kisses. I gasped as he buried his hand in my cropped hair and pulled roughly. “His name, is Reek.” Ramsay spat. “What is his name?” He asked me, yanking at my hair again.   
“Reek… his name is Reek.” I moaned as he nuzzled my neck.  
“Very good.” He muttered. For the second time that day he pushed me back onto the bed. This time I did not stop him from undoing my breeches. “Tell me… tell me what you did to him.” I whispered as he tore my clothes from me. I helped him remove his tunic. He lay on top of me and planted kisses up and down my body. “I flayed some of his fingers; peeled back the skin…” He said, moving down to between my legs. I moaned as he used his tongue to satisfy my desire. “Then I let some of my whores please him before I took away his favourite toy…” He continued. I moaned again at the thought of Reek being tortured. I entwined my fingers in his hair and pulled. “And, what did you do with it?” I asked breathlessly. He moved his tongue up my body and back to my lips. “I sent it to his father, along with my terms.” He grinned. I laughed at that; the thought of proud Balon Greyjoy opening the box and getting quite a shock. Ramsay pushed into me with his usual savageness. But unlike before, I enjoyed it. I wrapped my legs around him, asking him to push harder. Her voice screamed in protest within me but my desire drowned her out again as he hardened within me. I dug my nails into his back, no doubt drawing blood. It seemed to make him move harder and faster. I bit my lip to muffle my cries of pleasure. I bit so hard that blood trickled across my lip. Ramsay lowered his face and used his tongue to lick away the blood.

By the time his seed was spent, we were both out of breath and dripping with sweat. I stood, shaking on my weak and tired legs, and grabbed a cloth to dry myself with. “I will stay here with you tonight sister. I cannot bear to be parted from you again.” He whispered, his voice hoarse from the amount of noise he had made. I wondered if it was all a trick. A part of me could not understand why he was acting in this way. But I couldn’t help but like it. Cole had come to me in my dreams, but Ramsay was flesh and blood. I picked up my tunic and put it on before returning to the bed. I slipped under the sheets, not touching him. I pushed the shame away. He hooked his arm around me and pulled me to him and I rested my head on his pale chest. I could hear his heart beat beneath the skin. Yes. Ramsay was made of flesh. We shared blood. We shared our bodies. And I think we were beginning to share minds. The thought of hunting with him, torturing with him exhilarated me. Deep inside of me, a girl screamed as though someone had stabbed her in the heart.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's quite sure and that it's taken an unexpected turn. Many turns are yet to come. I will try to do another chapter this evening. And thank you to everyone who has left kudos and the ones who have commented. Thank you! It means a lot to know that you're enjoying it :)


	22. Leila's First Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay takes Leila out on her first hunting trip. But she catches more than she had first anticipated.

My father and Fat Walda left a few weeks later without my knowing. He didn’t tell me. I suspected that Ramsay may have known but we spoke little about him, preferring to keep him out of our thoughts when we were together. We were together frequently. He would come to me at night like he used to, only now I would welcome him and react to his touch. During the day the voice would resurface, bringing up doubt and shame. But when we were together I could not help but want him, despite knowing it was wrong. He was the only one who seemed to notice me; father no longer did, Fat Walda I tried to avoid in case the urge to slice open her throat got too strong. Even the people had changed. When I went out to ride around the villages, people would hurry indoors to be out of my way. Ramsay didn’t treat me as though I were the only thing that mattered like Cole did, but at least he showed me some affection. Cole continued to come to me in my dreams. Despite knowing that Ramsay was next to me, I was unable to turn away from the strange man that came to please me. I was worried that I would perhaps cry out in my sleep, or worse, cry out Cole’s name whilst I was with Ramsay. But my worries dispersed when I woke up and saw Ramsay lying peacefully next to me.

True to his word, Ramsay organised us to go on a hunt. He released a whore that he had grown tired of into the woods. I sat by the window for some of the night, listening for her running through the woods. Ramsay stood with me for a while until we heard the girl cry out as she fell down. “Beautiful isn’t it?” I said on hearing her cry.  
“Not as beautiful as you.” He mumbled, nuzzling my neck. No. That was too nice. I gave him a small, cold smile and went back to the bed. He took the hint and joined me. As he thrust himself into me I thought about the possibility of having another child. I shuddered; thanking the Gods that my courses had continued to come when they should.

The next morning our horses were saddled and ready waiting for us in the courtyard. The dogs were out too, waiting for their master’s command. As we mounted up, Myranda appeared at the doorway watching us coldly. I smiled at her whereas Ramsay didn’t even notice her presence. He smiled at me, excitement in his eyes at the prospect of showing me his favourite game. Arianne flattened her ears as the dogs began to bark. Blood whinnied to her and she snapped at him. I tugged on the reins, ordering her to calm down. She threw her head up slightly but settled, ears still pinned back. The moment the gates were opened, she sprung forward. Ramsay and I galloped as close to each other as our horses would allow. The dogs soon picked up the trail of the whore and we followed them. The sound of their baying and our horses pounding hooves made my blood pump through me. We pulled up as the dogs took a moment to find the scent once we hit a small stream. I recalled a dream that a girl had had some time ago. A distant memory. She was lying beside the stream, her hand tracing the water’s surface. Her brother sat close by, playing a merry tune on a small harp. _“Leila.”_ A whisper on the breeze hit me. Her brother’s voice called softly to me. Deep within me, I felt her stir, awakening at the memory. _“No, not now!”_ I thought, trying to supress her. “Will the dogs take much longer brother?” I asked impatiently.  
“Patience sister, my bitches always find the trail. If not we’ll have to find someone else to chase.” He said pointedly, his eyes growing cold.  
“I’m sorry brother, I merely wished to know…it is all so exciting! I wish it wouldn’t end.” I ignored a part of me that was straining to hear the voice on the wind again. The sound of the breeze was soon blocked out by the barking of Ramsay’s girls as they picked up the woman’s scent. We galloped after them. I was the first to spot white amongst the trees. I removed an arrow from the bag on my back and loaded my bow. I fired at the limping white figure whilst Arianne continued to gallop behind Blood. We pulled up when we heard a scream. Ramsay looked back at me, smiling with evil glee. I mirrored the smile and we followed the sound of the whore’s cries. The dogs found her before we did. They drooled as they caught the scent of the girl’s blood. My arrow had hit her in the shoulder. “A fine shot my sister.” He praised. She tried to scramble away but one of the dogs tore at her ankle, making her cry out in pain. “Down girls.” Called Ramsay. The dogs immediately obeyed. We dismounted from our horses and walked towards her. “Please Master Ramsay, I’ll do anything you ask, please!” The girl sobbed. I smiled as she clasped her shoulder in pain. “I asked you to run, to run fast, and to be a good sport. Unfortunately, you failed to deliver.” He smiled sadistically at her. He then turned to be and I met his eyes, daring him to do it. He turned back to the girl. “Rip her!” He cried. The bitches leapt onto their prey. I watched as they tore her limb from limb, the blood spreading like a rug across the forest floor. Ramsay turned back to me with hunger and desire in his eyes. He stalked towards me. He pushed me up against a large oak tree and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth violently. I didn’t resist. I knew he would do what he wanted. The girl’s screams had aroused him; that was why he had brought me here. I looked deep into his eyes as he pawed at my clothes clumsily. When I thought he was just going to rip my clothes from my body entirely, his eyes shot up so that I could only see the whites of them. He began to shake uncontrollably. After a few seconds, he fell to the floor. “Ramsay? Ramsay?!” I cried, dropping to my knees beside him. I shook him violently. His eyes were closed now. “He’s not dead.” Came a voice from behind me. I span around and stood up. “I could kill him if you wanted me to. Or you could do it.” Cole said. He walked towards me in only his breeches. I banished any thoughts concerning what lay beneath the fabric. “What have you done to him?” I asked, angrily.  
“He is only sleeping. You looked like you needed help.” He said, his green eyes burning into mine.  
“I was doing fine.” I argued.  
“Oh, really?” Cole asked, he reached out and grabbed my arm before I could pull away. Bruises were beginning to form and blood trickled down from where Ramsay had dug his nails in. He moved his hand down gently so that he was holding my wrist, forcing me to look at the damage that had been done. I looked up at him. “A man should never lay with a woman in anger.” He said softly.  
“That’s rich coming from someone whose brothers are rapists.” I spat. He dropped my arm. “My brothers did try to force themselves on women yes. But it was out of desire, not anger.” He said bluntly. I went silent, considering all the times that Ramsay had come at me angrily. Even in these past few weeks he had sometimes come to me angry about something. Cole watched me. I refused to meet his honest gaze. “Do you love your brother?” He asked. I looked up at him, unsure of what to say. “I…I find myself…wanting him…”  
“Wanting does not mean love. Love means never wanting to be without them.” He stated.  
“I don’t think it is a very appropriate question for you to be asking Cole.”  
“How do you know my name?” He asked, cocking his head to one side. I paused, uncertain of what to say next. “Your family is notorious in these parts…” Was the best I could come up with.  
“My mother and brothers were quite well known, yes. I however tend to keep quiet.” He said, smiling wryly at me. I shook my head and turned away from him, back to Ramsay. “He will wake soon. Remember what I said…” Cole said, taking firm hold of my wrist, “If you ever want answers, you know where to find me.”  
“And do you remember what I said? I do not need answers as I have no questions.” I spat angrily. He stepped back, his manner somewhat cold now. My brother stirred. “My lady.” Cole said, giving me a mock bow before loping off into the trees. I watched him until he disappeared. “My sister. That was the best you’ve ever been. Did you enjoy our hunting trip as much as I?” He moaned, standing up to hold me tightly around the waist.  
“Yes brother, I did, but I am very tired after our time together. May we return home?” I asked distractedly. Ramsay just nodded groggily and stumbled over to Blood. I chanced one last look into the woods, hoping to glance Cole. The trees stared back judgingly at me. I followed Ramsay and remounted Arianne. We walked in silence back to the Dreadfort.


	23. Looking for Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Leila's dreams overpower her, she grudgingly goes to the woods to seek answers.

The dreams got worse after I saw him in the woods. They grew stronger and more passionate each and every night. I found myself missing him during the day and longing for night to come. Worst of all was that when Ramsay visited me at night, I found myself picturing Cole in his place. One night as I was reaching my climax I cried out his name. Ramsay quickly pulled away, his eyes burning with anger. I could think of nothing to say to fix what I had said. “What did you say?” He asked.  
“N…Nothing brother.” I stammered, trying to pull him back to me. He gripped my wrist tightly before I could touch him, twisting it until I gasped in pain. “Who’s Cole?” He spat.  
“No one, I don’t know anyone called Cole.” I replied flatly. “Please brother, I do not wish to see you upset.” I said, my voice softening.  
“I hope you have not been unfaithful to me sister.” Ramsay whispered, his eyes glistening maliciously.  
“Never brother.” My eyes never left his. I relaxed a little as I felt the tension pour from him. Before I could protest, he pushed me roughly back onto the pillows and thrust his fist into me. I cried out at first but pushed the pain away, replacing my cries with gasps of feigned pleasure. “What is my name?” Ramsay growled as I clutched at the pillows.  
“Ramsay.” I whispered.  
“What is my name?” He asked again. He continued to do so until I was repeatedly crying out his name. Then he returned to stabbing me with his cock. “You are mine.” He whispered in my ear. He didn’t hold back, pushing into me, roughly and savagely. He put all his anger into his movements. _“A man should never lay with a woman in anger.”_ Cole’s words echoed in my head. I tried to return to pleasing Ramsay, moving my hips in time with his thrusts. _“But I am his.”_ I thought in reply to Cole’s words. The thought made me shudder.

I woke up with several more bruises and scratches over my body. Ramsay lay next to me exhausted after last night. I was angry with myself, and at Cole. Then I felt stupid for blaming him; it was my imagination that got away with me. But I still could not understand the strength of my dreams. They overpowered me. I had never experienced anything like them before so how could I imagine them? The sun was beginning to creep through the window. I needed to see him. I felt angry again when I realised I would need him to answer my questions. Ramsay stirred and groaned in his sleep. His eyes flickered open and he turned his head to look at me. For once, his eyes were expressionless. He got up from the bed without a word and collected his clothes from the floor. I watched him. The silence made me shiver. “Brother, I…”  
“Tell Myranda I wish for her company tonight.” He cut in and left without another look at me. I slumped against the pillows. “Shit.” I muttered, and got up to dress.

I wanted to peel the skin from Myranda’s face when I passed on Ramsay’s message. She looked so smug. She practically skipped around the room all day. Although a part of me was annoyed, I knew that it would give me a chance to find Cole. When night fell, I waited till Myranda left me alone in my chambers before redressing in the clothes I had worn to smuggle myself through Moat Cailin. I slipped out of the door and easily passed those I met. I looked like more of a kitchen boy then I did a lady. I chose to go on foot rather than take Arianne, it would look too obvious that I was gone and someone would tell Ramsay. He was already suspicious enough of me after last night. As I ran towards the woods, I heard Myranda begin to scream. It was hard to tell if it was out of pleasure or pain, either way, it drove me on faster.

I wasn’t sure where to go. I didn’t know where Cole lived, he had always just stumbled across my path. I continued to run along a secluded and overgrown path; it was more likely that he would keep to the hidden parts. Sure enough, I stumbled across him deep in the forest. I ran past him at first, not stopping until I heard his voice. “Looking for someone?” He called. I span around to see him sitting, cross legged on a tree stump. “Or has your brother released you so he can hunt you down in the morning?” He mocked. I managed a small smile, not allowing him to see how irritated I was. It didn’t work. He smiled, amused when spotting my annoyance. “I was looking for you.” I stated bluntly. He laughed and wrapped his arms around his knees. “And why could that be I wonder?”  
“Don’t mock me.” I replied sullenly.  
“So, what is it you wanted to ask me?” He said merrily. The fact he was so casual put me off. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” I spat. Angry with myself for coming. I began to march away back towards the Dreadfort. “Is it about the dreams?” He called after me. I stopped walking and turned, reluctantly, not meeting his green eyes. “How do you know about…them?” I asked.  
“It works both ways. I’ve got to say, you’re better than I thought you’d be.” He jested.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned angrily.  
“Well, considering the only man you know very well is your brother…”  
“Fuck off.” I spat, turning away and starting to walk again. To my annoyance, he ran to walk beside me. “Am I any good?” He asked. I picked up my pace, leaving him behind. “Wait! You came here for answers…” He called. I stopped. “I’ve got answers.” He said, shrugging. I sighed and turned back to face him. “Then give me the answers.” I said coldly.  
“Shall we go somewhere warmer?” He asked, almost suggestively. I found myself going with him. He walked beside me. He still wore nothing but breeches, even his feet were bare. I tried not to focus on the hardness of the muscles or his broad shoulders. He looked down at me unexpectedly and caught me looking at him. I fixed my gaze on the path in front of me. “So, your brother didn’t fancy sharing your company this evening?” He asked.  
“I notice that your brother isn’t with you either. Did he find you just as irritating as I do?” I shot back.  
“My brother’s dead.”  
“Oh.” For some reason I felt guilty.  
“A fever took him shortly after we met.” He informed me, his voice showing no emotion. I said nothing. I couldn’t think of anything to say. “They say bad things happen to good people. My brother was a bad person, yet something bad happened to him. The Gods like to keep us on our toes.” He said thoughtfully.  
“My father has another saying. Evil always wins.” I mumbled. I could sense him looking at me. “I don’t think that’s true.” He replied.  
“I do.” I said. I glanced up at him and found him looking at me curiously. “My brother Ramsay, he always wins.” I continued.  
“Wins what?” He asked.  
“Whatever he wants. He gets it. He’ll be heir to the North soon enough.” I replied. We fell silent. The woods stopped and we walked out onto a stony shoreline that ran alongside a river that led to the Weeping Water. A fire was burning on the shoreline. I looked at him curiously. He shrugged and said “I’ve got to find some way to keep warm.”  
“Perhaps you should try wearing some more clothes.” I retorted. He laughed and we both sat down by the fire. “So, you said Ramsay is going to become heir to the North, what about any heirs made by your father and his wife?” He asked.  
“He’ll kill them like he did the last one.” I replied bluntly. “Anyway, I came here to ask you questions.” I said.  
“Fine. What do you want to know?” He asked, leaning back to rest on his elbows. The shadows danced on his taught stomach muscles. “What did you do to end up in my dreams?” I questioned.  
“I didn’t do anything.” He replied.  
“Yes, you did. You must’ve cast a spell or something…”  
“I don’t know any spells that make a woman desire me, I don’t think I would be running around the woods all alone if I could.” He joked.  
“Then what did you do?” I asked, accusingly.  
“Have you ever considered the possibility that the dreams are down to you?” He questioned. I looked at him angrily. “Why would I dream about… that?” I asked.  
“Well, you’ve got to desire someone other than your brother, otherwise that’s just wrong.” He joked. I went to get up when he stopped me. “I have magic yes, but we are unable to manipulate people’s feelings. What you dream is down to you and what you want.” He said meaningfully.  
“But, you said you also dreamed about me.” I reminded him. He looked into the flames. “Yes, well…”  
“Shh…” I ordered, listening. I heard oars moving in the water. I turned around to look downriver. In the darkness, I could make out three small boats pull up along the shore. Their leader stepped onto the shingle first. She was a woman with dark hair that stopped at her shoulders. She wore armour and carried a battle axe. The men followed her as she headed into the woods. “Shit, Ironborn’s…” I muttered. I stood up. “I have to go.” I said, all thoughts of getting answers gone from my mind.   
“I thought you wanted answers.” He muttered.  
“I have to warn my brother.” I said. He watched me go, unsaid words hanging in the air.


	24. Broken Things Can Be Rebuilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Leila!” He called. I turned back to face him. “I do not wish to see you broken. But do not let the girl inside of you disappear forever. Women like her are hard to come by in this world.”

They were scaling the walls when I reached the Dreadfort. I could still hear Myranda with Ramsay. Dammit, she was still alive. Pushing away the irritation I felt, I ran towards the gates. “Guards!” I yelled.  
“What do you want here boy? Fuck off before Lord Ramsay sets his dogs on you!” One of them replied, he walked towards me, ready to beat me until I was bloody.  
“Now, now is that anyway to speak to your Lady?” I asked wryly. The guard, whose name escaped me, looked confused. I pushed back my fringe to show my eyes. “Forgive me m’lady, I didn’t…”  
“Sound the warning bell, we have unwelcome visitors. What are you waiting for? Fuck off before Lord Ramsay sets his dogs on you!” I smiled as he hurried away.

I followed the sound of the bitches barking. Asha Greyjoy had obviously come to free her brother. As I neared the kennels, the sounds of steel clashing and men shouting rang in my ears. I unsheathed my knife. On appearing in the doorway, I saw the remaining Ironborn men fighting with the Bastard’s Boy’s. Ramsay was shirtless, covered with bleeding scratches. He fought viciously but effectively; killing Ironborn after Ironborn and getting nearer and nearer to Asha, who yelped when Reek bit into her hand, forcing her to release him. I crept up behind one of the Ironborn men and ran my blade across his throat. The fighting stopped. “Asha Greyjoy, how kind of you to join us.” I said, moving to stand beside Ramsay.  
“I’m here for my brother, I want him back.” Asha retorted, anger burned in her eyes.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t think we have your brother.” I replied, smiling.  
“Yes you do. Surely you can understand a sister wishing for the safety of her only brother. I’ve come to save mine. You had a brother too once. Domeric was it? What would you have done if you had the chance to save him?” She asked determinedly. Somewhere in me, a girl screamed at the memory. “My brother does not need saving. My brother stands beside me.” I replied darkly. Ramsay looked at me and I at him. I smiled. “Give me my brother, and no more of your men will die.” Asha demanded when she realised her last trick had failed.  
“You’ve got bigger balls then he ever did.” Ramsay said, indicating to the cowering Reek. He sheathed his dagger and looked up at her menacingly. “But with those, big balls of yours…” He unhooked the key he kept on his belt. He held the key up for her to see. “How fast can you run?” His eyes glinted with evil glee and he smiled as he forced the key into the lock. As soon as the door was opened, Ramsay’s girls barged out and ran for Asha and her Ironborn’s. I laughed as I watched them disappear down the dark tunnels. Ramsay turned to me. I looked at him. At least he was in a good mood. He moved closer to me and clutched my waist. He sniffed my clothes before nuzzling at my neck. “And where have you been sister?” He asked.  
“Praying.” I lied, closing my eyes as he kissed and sucked at my neck.  
“Praying for what?”  
“For you to forgive me. For you to want me again.” I replied. The girl inside me tried to protest. “Your wish is my command.” He mumbled. He kissed me hard on the lips before leading me up the stairs and to my bedchamber.

I woke to find him still there beside me. I lay on my side and watched him for a while. _“Do you love your brother?”_ Came Cole’s voice. I looked at the sleeping Ramsay. If he was like this, peaceful, I believed I could. If he were not my brother… I could still not find the answer to that question. He had been gentler last night; a lot of energy gone from him. He awoke. His eyes snapping open when he sensed me watching him. He reached out, tracing my jawline, then my lips. We said nothing. I looked deep into his eyes and saw him developing a game in them. You could only tell if you had looked into them enough times. “What are you plotting brother?” I jested, grabbing his hand and kissing it.  
“I’m going to give Reek a bath today.” He said excitedly. He swiftly climbed out of the bed retrieving his clothes. “May I walk in the woods?” I asked.  
“What do you want to do there?” He questioned, I could imagine him sniffing at the air to sense a lie.  
“I wish to thank the Gods for allowing me to have you again.” I said.  
“My sweet little sister, do you really think they care? I came back to you because you are mine, and I can do as I please with you. Plus, I like fucking you. But, if it is what you wish.” He replied. His mind was already elsewhere. He strolled out of the door without another word. I watched him go. Anger and shame welled up inside of me.

I dressed myself, not wanting to see Myranda. Then I retraced my footsteps back out to the forest. I kept my eyes peeled for him this time, checking every tree stump I passed. When I reached the edge of the river, the fire had burnt out and there was no sign of him. “Cole?” I called. The breeze answered me, but he didn’t. I began to trudge back along the path. The anger burning in me again. If anyone had fallen across my path in that moment, I would have gladly driven my blade through them. “There are many paths in these woods. Do you think I stick to just the one?” Came a voice from above. “Luckily I come to call.” Cole said, lounging on a branch.  
“Are you some sort of child that grew up with animals? You seem to be more of a shadow cat than a man.” I growled.  
“Well I definitely didn’t grow up with shadow cats, although my brothers did act like animals.” He jested.  
“Do you have any idea how fucking irritating you are?” I yelled.  
“Now, now! That’s no way for a lady to talk.” He replied.  
“Fuck off!” I exclaimed.  
“You called me here. Did you get bored of your brother and decide to find someone else for a change? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fuck someone that you weren’t related to, besides in your dreams?” He leapt down from the tree, his tone suddenly serious, almost shouting. He caught my wrist as I tried to slap him around the face. He looked at me with anger and hurt in his eyes. “Can you let go if me?” I asked flatly. He did so and took a step back. “Forgive me.” He said.  
“No.” I replied. He looked at me. “You are truly unbelievable do you know that? I ask you for forgiveness and you refuse to give me it, yet if you asked me for forgiveness I would give it to you in a heartbeat.” He was almost yelling again.  
“What have I got to ask forgiveness for?” I cried incredulously.  
“For killing my mother and my brother!”  
“Your brother was a rapist and your mother was a murderer!”  
“And how are you any better than them?” He shouted. I looked at him, stunned. I could think of nothing to say. In that moment, I allowed the person I had once been to resurface. I allowed the real emotions back in. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, to become a completely different person? To hide who you are? I had no choice. I couldn’t help it. It was either I broke or I changed.” I found myself saying the words that I had never said out loud before, that I had never allowed myself to admit. He noticed the change in my voice. “I have lost much at your hand. But I feel you have lost a great deal more than I.” He said gravely.  
“That does not make up for the wrongs that I have done you.” I replied. He didn’t deny it. “You came to see me?” He asked light heartedly.  
“Yes.” I said, not looking up at him.  
“Why?” He questioned, I could sense him looking at me with his deep green eyes.  
“I can’t remember now.” I mumbled. He laughed and walked towards me. “Allow me to walk you back?” He asked.  
“You’d best not. If I am caught with you…If Ramsay finds out…”  
“You’re afraid of him?”  
“Not anymore. There isn’t anything that he hasn’t done already left to make me fear him.” I said. I felt the walls begin to rebuild around me and the girl being pushed back down. “He’s hurt you.” He stated, indicating to the bruises and scratches on my arm.  
“It’s nothing.” I said.  
“I said earlier that I felt you have lost a great deal more than I. Is that true?” Cole asked.  
“I have lost many things. I too have lost my mother and a brother. But you just keep going.” I replied.  
“Don’t do that. Don’t push me away.” He protested.  
“Push you away?” I asked, confused.  
“Yes, back there I got to see the person you were. Now you are pushing her back down.” He said. I looked at him, his green eyes changed slightly so that they had a blue hue. “It’s who I have to be. If I don’t change and push her away then I’m going to get hurt. She got hurt.”  
“At least she felt things. Emotions. Sadness, grief. Love.” He said softly.  
“Yes, I lost my mother and my brother.” I admitted, not wishing to argue.  
“And you loved them?” He asked.  
“Yes, I think so. I sometimes forget what that feels like. It gets harder to love as you get older. You realise how bad the world is.” I said.  
“I too loved my mother and brother. But they were not easy to love. My brother believed that everything was his. He lived as though he should be given everything for free. My other brother, Manfred, lived as though there were no tomorrow, he did as he pleased. And my mother was bitter. She lived as though no one deserved a tomorrow.” He confessed.  
“What of your father?” I asked.  
“We knew nothing of him. Manfred was the eldest yet he did not know what his face looked like.” He said. I could glimpse the Dreadfort between the trees. “I will ask you to walk no further.” I said.  
“I understand. If you wish to speak again, just call my name.” He replied. I nodded my thanks and turned away. “Leila!” He called. I turned back to face him. “I do not wish to see you broken. But do not let the girl inside of you disappear forever. Women like her are hard to come by in this world.” It seemed like more of a jest, but the underlying tone suggested he meant what he said. I gave him a small smile before continuing along the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write, I don't know if it was due to the range of emotions Leila goes through or if it was just getting the story line across. Sorry if it isn't brilliant or particularly interested. Hopefully the tempo will begin to pick up again from here.


	25. Learning Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so I learnt what it meant to be loved. I recalled when he had defined what love was, that it was not wanting to be away from someone. I wished for him to stand beside me every moment of the day.

I went back to him whenever I could. I would call his name and he would appear close by, in a tree or on a rock. I no longer found myself annoyed at his bizarre entrances. We would walk through the woods; he would show me new paths that were not littered with bodies of dead whores. With these new pathways came a sense of freedom. I could feel things again. Joy and happiness, or pain if I scratched myself on a thistle. When I was with Cole, the walls would come crumbling down. We would talk about our childhood and share stories with one another. When I was not with him, I would find myself smiling secretly at remembering something he’d said. Then the walls would be rebuilt. Ramsay did not notice my absence during the day. He was busy training Reek for when they rode for Moat Cailin. I would always be able to tell how the training had gone by the mood he would be in at night. It was those times when I was with Ramsay that I found myself drowning out the girls screams again. But she was quieter now. She knew she would return soon. My dreams about Cole had stopped too. I missed them, but spending time with him was enough. I endured the nights with Ramsay because I knew that daylight would come and I would get to see Cole again.

We were sitting beneath a large oak tree one afternoon. I was lying in the grass beneath it; staring up at the branches. A coldness ran through me as I recalled a swinging body above me and being pounded into the dirt by my brother. Cole sensed my change of emotion. “What’re you thinking of?” He asked innocently.  
“A memory.” I replied thoughtfully.  
“Not a very happy one I presume.” He said. I shook my head “No, it isn’t.” I no longer pushed away emotions with Cole; he could always tell when I was lying. “Do you care to share it?” He asked. I looked at him for a moment. I had told no one of what had happened that night before. I had not even told Alerie when she was alive. He looked at me, his green eyes staring deeply into mine, searching for the story. I sighed and looked back up to the sky. I couldn’t look at him when I told it. He was silent when I finished. I was shocked to find icy cold tears on my cheeks. I brushed one off with my finger and looked at it; mesmerized. When was the last time I had cried? “Have you been alone since then?” He asked.  
“I didn’t want anyone’s pity. I pushed them away.”  
“Well you aren’t alone anymore.” He said softly, shuffling so that he sat beside me. “You’ve got me.” He whispered. He leaned down, brushing his lips over mine, testing for my reaction. I pulled him closer, bringing my lips to his and deepening the kiss. He turned his body so that he was lying partly on me. I wrapped my fingers in his hair; wanting to never let him go. He was like he had been in my dreams. Always checking that I approved. I ran my hand down his bare chest to the laces of his breeches and pulled at the string. “No.” He breathed, catching my wrist. I looked at him with confusion in my eyes. “You have so much to learn Leila. I told you once what the difference between desire and love is. You are ready to go to the next step because you know no different. There is so much more than that.” He breathed. I began to protest but he sank his lips onto mine again and I found that I could not. I was lost for a moment. Then I pulled away, realisation catching up. “You do not want me?” I asked sadly, sitting up. “I understand. Who could? I am a monster with devils blood. I enjoy killing…”  
“No, Leila. You cannot understand how long I have wished for this. But Ramsay never took time to show you that there is more than one way to enjoy the company of another. His way is not how you fall in love. Allow me time to teach you?” He asked gently.  
“Your mother cursed me.” I mumbled.  
“You were cursed long before you met my mother.” He laughed. I looked at him again in confusion. “You were cursed with your beauty.” He said, reaching out to caress my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I smiled, wiping unnoticed tears from my cheeks. “I don’t think anyone has called me beautiful before.” I admitted.  
“Then you have been surrounded by fools your entire life.” He joked. Pulling me to my feet, he kissed me again. Just gently. “May I escort you back?” He asked politely.  
“Don’t pretend to be a gentleman now!” I exclaimed. He laughed at me and we began to retrace our steps along the trail. He wrapped his strong arm around my shoulder and kissed my hair. I smiled. I did not recall a time where I had not been this close to a man without either fearing them, desiring them, or wanting to kill them.

And so I learnt what it meant to be loved. I recalled when he had defined what love was, that it was not wanting to be away from someone. I wished for him to stand beside me every moment of the day. When we were together we would find more hidden places in the forest. He showed me his home; a small hovel that contained more herbs and potions then actual living space. The herbs filled it with too many scents to name but it left me feeling lightheaded. I would lay in his arms, just feeling the strength and warmth of them. He would kiss me until my lips were sore. I felt the pain but I enjoyed it. When we weren’t together I missed him. I tried not to think about it in fear of Ramsay noticing anything. He didn’t. I allowed him to fuck me whenever he wished. He had my body but my mind was elsewhere. He would come to me happy and a little aroused after a good day with Reek; he would treat me better than other nights. Sometimes I did enjoy it. Sometimes I would be overcome with desire and my internal protests drowned out by it. Then I would return to Cole’s strong arms and be reminded of what love was.

Of course it couldn’t last.

I was crossing the courtyard when the gates were flung open and Father rode in. “Father!” I exclaimed in surprise. “We weren’t expecting you back so soon.” I tried to look sterner, more controlled. My back straightened as he dismounted and walked over to me. “Where’s Ramsay?” He asked without a word of greeting.  
“Working with his pet.” I replied flatly.  
“Bring him to me. I have instructions for him.” He said, ignoring my tone. I looked at him, wondering if he was going to say more. He stared back at me; his eyes were empty. I could’ve been nothing more than a kitchen slut and he would have treated me the same. I turned away and headed towards Ramsay’s quarters, cursing my father as I went. I did not knock. “Ramsay?” I called on entering. His head snapped around, eyes suddenly filled with anger. “Have you a reason for interrupting me sister? This is Reek’s time now. I will come to you tonight.” He growled, turning back to Reek who flinched at his angry tone.  
“Father is here.” I informed starkly. He turned around again and sighed before finally deciding to go and see what it was father wanted. “Come Reek!” He called. The creature scrambled on all fours to try and keep up with his master. “No Reek. Remember your lessons. Now who are you?” Ramsay asked, his voice sadistically sweet. Reek looked up at him, confused. He wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be. “I am Reek m’lord, it rhymes with meek.” He whimpered at the following silence.   
“Who are you pretending to be?” Ramsay questioned.  
“I am Reek, it rhymes with weak, leek…” The creature yelped as Ramsay viciously booted him in the ribs.  
“Who are you pretending to be?” Ramsay asked angrily, pulling Reek up onto his feet by his hair. I tried not to flinch. The usual pleasure I took in watching others suffer did not surface when I watched the fear Reek experienced. “Theon Greyjoy. I am pretending to be Theon Greyjoy!” Reek whimpered.  
“Very good. Now stand up. There’s a good Reek.” Ramsay stopped tearing at Reek’s hair and began to stroke it gently. I shuffled uncomfortably. Ramsay did not seem to notice. He walked out of the door with his pet in tow and me following behind him. I wondered if it was in order of importance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't upload anything last night, I had a psychology exam to revise for, and of course I had to watch the episode of GoT! I can't wait for the next episode. Sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed, I just couldn't think of any action to put into it so I thought I'd put it all in one chapter. Please keep commenting with what you think, it means a lot to hear what you think :)


	26. With All My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Roose returns with orders that they are to ride for Moat Cailin, Leila decides that it is about time she made some decisions for herself.

Father stood looking into the cold fireplace. He didn’t look up as we entered. I immediately went and sat down, already sensing that this wasn’t going to be about me. “Welcome home father, we were not aware that you were returning.” Ramsay said gravely.  
“I am not here for long, merely to give orders.” Father replied. We waited in silence for him to speak again. “You are ready to ride for Moat Cailin I assume.” He said.  
“Of course father. There is no doubting Reek’s loyalty.” Ramsay announced, glancing at his quivering pet.  
“So I have heard. You must ride for Moat Cailin as soon as you are able. I will join you there when I can.” Father’s voice was cold and empty. “You may leave us Leila, I wish to speak with Ramsay.” He continued. I looked up sharply. “And why can I not hear what you have to say?” I asked.  
“It does not concern you.” Father didn’t look at me.  
“If it concerns our family then it concerns me. I am a Bolton. Or have you forgotten that?” I argued, sick of being overlooked.  
“Have you forgotten that I am your father and you owe me respect?” His words cut deep. He fixed me with a cold glare. “You must go and pack.” He ordered.  
“Pack? Surely if my brother is leaving then I shall remain here and act as lady of the Dreadfort?” I asked incredulously.  
“No, you will travel with Ramsay and you can act as lady of the camp if you so wish.” He informed bitterly.  
“I can’t leave.” I protested.  
“You can. And you will.” He turned his attention away from me and back to Ramsay, informing him that the argument was over. “Leave us now. We have much to discuss, it may take all night.” Father informed. I did not storm from the room as I would have done before. Ramsay looked at me longingly; he would not get to have me tonight. No. _He_ wouldn’t.

I ran through the forest, not hesitating as I knew where my feet would lead me. Cole was sitting outside his hovel, setting up a fire when I arrived. “I was worried, you hadn’t come…”  
“Don’t talk.” I ordered and pressed my lips to his. I wrapped my arms around him and he ran his fingers softly through my hair that now reached below my shoulders. I deepened the kiss and leaned into him; telling him what I wanted. “Leila…” He pulled away.  
“No. I have not had any control over anything my entire life. I have always been forced into decisions, I have never made one for myself. Let me make this one. Let me give you my body as well as my heart.” My words came from my heart and my soul. I wanted to tell him my love for him with my body too. “Do you love me?” He asked.  
“Yes. Do you love me?” I repeated, wanting to hear him say it.  
“With all my heart.” Was his reply. He kissed me deeply before picking me up in his strong arms and taking me into the hovel. We undressed each other slowly, wanting to study the contours of each other’s bodies. His fingertips were like fire on my skin. He pushed me onto the small bed. “With your permission my lady?” He asked, trailing his lips and nuzzling between my legs.  
“Yes.” I breathed. If he had been good in my dreams, he was a thousand times better in real life. The first time I felt him harden within me I gasped in delight, thanking the gods that we were in the middle of the woods so that no one would hear my cries. He sucked at my nipples until they hardened and were red beneath his lips. When I straddled him, he would not lie there motionless beneath me as Ramsay did; he moved his hips with mine. Our movements would become synchronized and it was hard to tell where one person ended and the other began. He would do whatever I asked and I would do whatever he wished. Our bodies seemed to match one another perfectly. When we were both spent, he pulled the furs over our naked bodies. I lay on top of him as there was not enough room for us to lie side by side. I couldn’t stop smiling and when I looked at his face I could see that he was too. “You’re somehow better in flesh than you were in my dreams.” He said, toying with my hair.  
“As are you.” I replied. I wanted to remain here forever, to never ever leave this simple little world of him and me. But when I looked out of the small window into the darkening world outside I was reminded of why I had come in the first place. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, sensing my change of mood.   
“That I don’t ever want to leave you.” I replied miserably.  
“Well you don’t have to, I’m not going anywhere.” He jested.  
“I am.” I muttered, not looking up at him.  
“What?” He asked sharply.  
“My father has ordered Ramsay to ride for Moat Cailin, and that I must go with him.” I mumbled, standing up from the bed and going to collect my clothes. He said nothing for a moment. “Don’t think I am going to let you go that easily. I won’t lose you to Ramsay.” He announced, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to him.  
“You will never lose me to him, I am yours and you are mine, but I don’t have a choice.” I said.  
“No you don’t.” He replied playfully and pulled me down back onto the bed. He lowered himself into me again. I forgot all about Ramsay and my father and leaving Cole. Only having him harden inside of me mattered. It was true that at that moment it would have been impossible to leave.

When we had finished for a second time, he let me stand up from the bed and dress. “Have you any idea how long I have wanted to see what was under those clothes, just to check that my dreams were accurate.” He jested, pulling on his own breeches.  
“Well you didn’t leave much to the imagination considering all you wear is those breeches.” I laughed.  
“I have other clothes, maybe I’ll let you see me in them one day.” He replied.  
“No, I’d rather see you out of them.” I mocked. I didn’t kiss him in fear of never being able to leave once he touched me. “Wait!” He called after me. Of course I came back. “You’ll be needing this. We don’t need any more bastards in this world.” Cole said, handing me a small phial of liquid. I opened the top and smelled it. It smelled strongly of mint with a bit of honey. “I know that before you said you didn’t want moon tea and you preferred a different method but I don’t want to see you get hurt again and this way is far safer…”  
“What is it?” I asked, cutting him off.  
“Moon tea… it’s used to prevent pregnancies and…”  
“Abort pregnancies?” I ventured, staring in shock at the phial.   
“Yes. My love are you quite well?” Cole asked and wrapped his arms around my waist. I continued to stare at the phial. “Were you here when my maid came to you?” I asked.  
“Yes, she came and asked my mother to abort a child. My mother tried to give her the moon tea but your maid said that you wanted a physical abortion.” Cole informed.  
“What did the maid look like?” I asked flatly.  
“Tall, pale skinned with dark hair, quite thin.” He said. “My love, is all well?” He asked again.  
“Yes of course!” I replied, shaking off the image of Myranda. I kissed him deeply. “Until we meet again my love.” I said sadly, not wanting to leave.  
“Yes, until we meet again.” I heard him reply as I reluctantly walked out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one's a bit short. I have finished with all my exams now so I can start writing more :)


	27. A Woman's Greatest Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Leila and Ramsay prepare to leave for Moat Cailin, a new servant joins the Bolton household.

I woke to the sound of shouts and men barking orders from outside. I stood and went to the window to see supplies and weapons being stacked onto carts and horses being prepared for travelling. I dressed and went to the great hall to break my fast. Father was still here, sitting at the high table; the dark shadows under his eyes suggested he truly had been up all night. Fat Walda sat beside him but Ramsay was absent. I sat down next to my father, ignoring Walda’s high pitched welcome. “Good morning father.” I said. He simply nodded and continued to eat. “I was not aware we were to leave so soon.” I continued.  
“We are to leave today if all goes well.” He informed.  
“Do we have a plan of attack? Is that what you and Ramsay spoke of at length? Is there to be a battle?” Father grasped my wrist in his iron grip, slamming my arm down hard onto the table to silence me. He looked at me coldly. “The plan is of no concern to you.” I went cold at his words. I could see an emptiness in his eyes that I had never seen before; it was as if I was of little or no importance to him. I averted my eyes away and removed my wrist from his grasp. As I pulled my arm away I knocked a goblet and sent it clattering to the floor. The hall went silent. This had happened before. I reached down to pick up the goblet but instead found my hand wrapped around someone’s arm. I looked up into Cole’s deep green eyes and breathed in sharply. Startled, I quickly let go of his arm. He placed the goblet back on the table. “M’lady.” He said, bowing formally, as though we did not know one another. I could not eat anything now. “Ramsay wishes to see you in his chambers.” My father informed me. I said nothing. “Boy, take my daughter to my sons chambers.” Father ordered, turning to Cole. _“No.”_ I thought.  
“Very well m’lord. This way m’lady.” Cole pulled the chair back as I stood. I followed him from the room. It was weird to see him in a cotton shirt and a leather jerkin. He wore a dark leather belt with a dagger attached to it. It took all of my self-restraint not to grab hold of his arm and tell him to leave immediately. He didn’t turn around to look at me. Once we were out of the great hall, he slowed his pace to walk beside me. “I told you I’d let you see me in clothes sometime.” He jested. I glared at him. “What in seven hells do you think you are doing here?” I whispered angrily.  
“I couldn’t bear having you away from me.” He replied, suddenly serious. I tried not to show how much those words meant. “You can’t be here. He’ll find out. He’ll hurt you!” I protested.  
“I don’t care. I would gladly have my fingers flayed if it meant not losing you.” He argued.  
“Then you are as foolish as you are handsome.” I spat. He laughed and walked slightly in front of me. I did not know how he knew the way to Ramsay’s chambers but he led me there without a moment’s hesitation. He knocked on the door and I held my breath as I heard Ramsay shout “Enter.” For a moment I thought that Ramsay would notice something as soon as we walked in. He did not stand as we entered. Cole stood aside for me to walk in. “Good morning sister, I take it you have heard that we are to leave for Moat Cailin today? Reek is ready to play his role, aren’t you Reek?” Ramsay asked his servant who quivered beside him. Reek was no longer dressed like a servant. He wore boiled leather, chainmail, a cloak and furs. He looked like the Prince of the Iron islands again. He did not act it though. He continued to quiver and watch Ramsay for any instructions he had to give. “Yes m’lord.” Reek muttered. I did not look at Cole to see his reaction to my brother’s pet, despite how I wanted to. “You wished to see me brother?” I asked, wanting to change the subject and get Cole as far away from Ramsay as I could.  
“Yes. I must write a letter giving the Ironborn scum my wishes. Unfortunately I am not one for writing, but they must belief it was hand written by me. So my sister, I wish for you to write it. It is only fair that you have some involvement in this mission.” He grinned at me from his chair. I wasn’t sure if what he’d just said was a snipe at how father had refused to give me any important orders, or because he truly wished to involve me in some way. I thought it best not to dwell on what he meant. He stood and gestured to his chair which I sat down in. I dipped the quill in the ink and began to scratch the words he told me onto the paper, changing some of the more threatening words so that he did not appear as being so cruel. As I was nearing the end of the letter, Ramsay came and stood behind me, stroking at my hair. He ran his fingers through it and began to gently caress my neck. “Reek, bring me and my sister some wine.” He ordered, he did not seem to be paying any attention to the fact that Cole was there, watching as he leaned forward, kissing the top of my head and nuzzling my hair. “I missed your company last night sister, did you miss mine?” He asked sweetly. I did not hesitate to reply. “Of course brother, I felt lost without you with me, as I always do when you are not there.” I couldn’t look up at Cole in fear of seeing hurt, or worse, disgust in his eyes. Ramsay stopped nuzzling my hair and looked to Reek, who was still struggling to pour the wine with his remaining fingers. “Faster Reek, don’t keep my sister and I waiting.” Ramsay urged. The creature mumbled his apologies and tried to move quicker. As he turned, he stumbled over the long cloak he wore. Before he could fall face first onto the floor, Cole ran to him and stopped his fall by grabbing his arm. The whole world seemed to stop. Reek looked up at Cole in shock, Ramsay’s eyes darkened with rage and I could feel the blood drain from my face. Cole did not seem affected by the tension that had suddenly flared in the room. Reek tore his arm away from Cole’s grasp and scrambled, slipping on the wine he had spilled, to Ramsay’s side. Cole stood tall and looked Ramsay square in the eye. His defiance only made matters worse. “Did I say you could touch my pet, serving boy?” Ramsay spat, enraged.  
“M’lord, he tripped…”  
“I’ll ask you again,” He slid open the draw and pulled out his flaying knife “Did I say that you could touch my pet?”  
“No m’lord.” Cole replied, dropping his head respectfully. But the damage was done. “Do you need to be taught a lesson on how you should not touch things that do not belong to you unless you are asked?” Ramsay stood, playing with the flaying knife. I sat in frozen terror as Ramsay walked over to Cole.

_***_

_He was not expecting the punch. Ramsay’s fist caught him square across the jaw and knocked him to the floor. Cole could taste the blood in his mouth. Before he could wipe a trickle of blood from his lip, Ramsay’s boot caught his chin, then came down again on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He felt so useless but he had wanted some way to get him off of her. To see the way he touched her, caressed her and nuzzled her hair was enough to drive him insane. He curled up into a ball as the kicks kept on coming, closing his eyes and resisting the urge to throw him across the room with a snap of his fingers. Then the kicks stopped abruptly. Cole opened his eyes to see Ramsay clutching Leila’s waist. “Come brother, I have to have you now. Another moment watching you do that and I will have to find someone else to fuck me.” She purred. Ramsay was unable to refuse. He pushed her roughly through the door and slammed it behind him. Cole could hear Ramsay tearing the clothes from her body that had been his only hours ago. Cole picked himself up from the floor and aimed for the door that Leila and Ramsay had disappeared through. Before he could push open the door the man they had called Reek stepped in front of him. “Master Ramsay is not to be disturbed.” He muttered, his eyes not meeting Cole’s. Cole heard Leila cry out in pain. He looked at Reek again. He looked deep into his eyes and he then understood. This man had stood outside their door many times. This man had heard Leila’s cries ring out many times before. With a heavy heart, Cole reluctantly turned away from his lovers cries._

_***_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the title of this chapter makes sense! So come on people, what are your views on Cole? And who do you prefer, Cole or Ramsay?


	28. Bruises and Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With surprising roughness that I had not experienced from him before, he grabbed my face and held it there, forcing me to look at my reflection. The powder had failed to hide the bruise and blood was smeared in my hair. Blood had run down and dried on my chin from where my lip was split. “Does that look like you handled Ramsay? Does it?!” He spat angrily.

We dressed quickly once we had finished. My limbs ached and bruises were beginning to appear across most of my body. On looking in the mirror I saw a large bruise appearing on my forehead from where he had thrust into me from behind so hard that I had hit my head on the headboard. He had also managed to split my lip somehow. My head throbbed; he had been rough in his anger. _“Rather on you than on Cole.”_ I thought to myself. The thought of Cole made me want to almost cry out in shame. Had he stood outside the door while my brother had fucked me? “You must go and pack.” Ramsay said sullenly. Now his excitement at having me was gone, he was angry that I had not let him hurt Cole. I nodded in reply and hurried out of the room.

I slammed the door to my chambers behind me and took a deep, shaking breath. “What the fuck were you doing?” Cole growled, appearing from behind a curtain.  
“Saving you from your own stupidity.” I spat back. I marched over to the dressing table and picked up the pot of powder. “I didn’t need saving.” Cole argued, his face dark with anger.  
“Oh really? Curled up on the floor and having the life kicked out of you, and you didn’t need saving?”  
“I knew what I was doing.” He mumbled.  
“And what was it you were doing exactly?” I asked angrily, turning to face him.  
“Stopping him from touching you.” His voice was barely audible as he stared at the floor.  
“I have told you before, I do not need your help. I can handle Ramsay.” I said, trying to sound light hearted. His head snapped up, his green eyes dark. He stormed towards me, turning me towards the mirror. With surprising roughness that I had not experienced from him before, he grabbed my face and held it there, forcing me to look at my reflection. The powder had failed to hide the bruise and blood was smeared in my hair. Blood had run down and dried on my chin from where my lip was split. “Does that look like you handled Ramsay? Does it?!” He spat angrily.  
“Can you release me please?” I asked softly, averting my eyes away from my reflection. Cole obeyed and stepped back, his eyes lightened a little and he looked saddened. “Forgive me Leila, I did not mean to hurt you. I am not angry at you.” His voice was pleading and he looked down in shame.  
“And I am not angry with you. You know better than anyone how I struggle with such things.” I stood and moved so that I was in front of him.  
“We could leave, run away? What is there stopping us?” His eyes shone at the prospect and he grabbed my hands. I looked at him, shocked. “I…you know that I can’t.” I sighed, pulling my hands away.  
“No, I don’t.” He lifted my chin with his finger and lent down to kiss me, then thought better of it when he remembered my split lip. “I will make him pay for what he did to you.” He promised. I laughed and batted his hand away. “You and I both someday.” I said solemnly. I froze as I heard footsteps coming along the corridor. Moments later, Myranda entered the room carrying a pile of clothes. Cole had already moved away from me. “I shall take that down to the carts m’lady.” He said formally, indicating to a large trunk in the corner of the room. I tried not to look amused at the thought of Cole spending his time packing my clothes while he waited for me. “Thank you.” I replied indifferently. Myranda froze when she got a good look at Cole, her face betrayed the fact that she recognised him. He nodded respectfully at her as he passed, carrying the large trunk with ease. She watched him go and I sat down by the dressing table, watching her with amusement. “Is there something wrong Myranda?” I asked mockingly.  
“No m’lady.” She said quickly.  
“Do you know that man?” I used the same mocking tone.  
“I’ve never seen him before.” She replied, and hurried to her duties. I smiled to myself.

The day was cold but there was no rain and no snow. Ramsay ordered me to ride beside him. Arianne snapped at Blood several times when he got to close but I pretended not to notice. Father had also been preparing to leave the Dreadfort, saying he was going to ride south to join his army. Ramsay was to send word when Moat Cailin was taken. Despite wishing for me to ride beside him, Ramsay said nothing and rode with a sullen expression on his face. Behind us rode Reek. He had been given a beaten up old nag to ride on. The horse looked like it may once have been a splendid creature, but many years of harsh riding had worn it down. I looked at Reek. The horse and rider seemed well matched. The ride was proving to be extremely dull. Ramsay was not eager to converse, I dared not speak to Reek, and we had to travel at a ridiculously slow pace due to Reek’s nag that could just about manage a wobbly canter. I chanced a look back in search of Cole. He was easy to spot; he was taller than most and far more handsome. He had been charged with walking alongside one of the carts. The roads nearer Moat Cailin were incredibly marshy and dangerous and we could not afford to lose a cart in any of them. “Looking for something sister?” Ramsay asked.  
“I was merely checking how large our army was.” I lied, turning around to face the empty road.  
“With any luck, we won’t need too many men.” He said. His tone suggested he had something planned, and that it wasn’t going to be pleasant. “I hope so.” I replied. He said nothing back.

Despite our slow pace, we managed to reach Moat Cailin after a day and a night’s ride. Ramsay had been relentless, allowing us to hardly ever stop and keeping the pace up as far as it could go. The crumbling castle walls made for a sorry sight in the morning light. The stench of death and the dank bogs filled the air but I refused to clamp my hand over my nose and mouth. “If that is all we have to get through then this will be easy, we might not even need Reek!” Ramsay scoffed.  
“It may seem that way brother, but the causeway towards Moat Cailin is treacherous; there is hardly enough room for an army to march four abreast. A wrong step and you’ll join the bodies of the dead.” I spoke my knowledge without thinking.  
“Do you think I don’t know that sister?” Ramsay spat. “Camp here! Reek, you come with me.” Ramsay ordered, dismounting. One of his squires rushed in to grab Blood. We had stopped on a sloping hill, covered with short grass and clusters of rocks covered with ugly green moss. I set to the task I had been given. “Lady of the camp.” I muttered angrily to myself. I was ruthless giving instructions. The whole army was tired and easily irritated. More than once I had to ride into the middle of a fight between two men to stop them. Then I would beat them myself, taking out the anger I felt. I too was tired and Arianne was not so willing to obey my wishes. I tried not to let my frustrations out on her. Once the camp was under control and almost set up, I decided to withdraw to my tent. Cole appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and took Arianne from me, preparing to take her to the horse lines. “Be sure to feed her well and rub her legs down, she served me well.” I mumbled. Cole smiled and nodded, leading her away. Before I disappeared into my tent, I looked towards Moat Cailin. Amongst the fog, I could make out Reek, slowly riding towards the castle carrying a white banner. With Ramsay still nowhere in sight, I slipped into my tent to catch some sleep.  


	29. Desire to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst waiting for news of Moat Cailin, Leila is forced to realize the way she behaves with Ramsay, and how it has to change if she is to be with Cole.

“Wake now sister.” Ramsay’s voice broke my rest and I sat up groggily in the small bed. Ramsay was sitting beside me, his smile giving me chills. “How long have you been here?” I asked, wiping the sleep away from my eyes.  
“Does it matter?” He pushed a lock of hair away from my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. “Come, I have ordered for us to have dinner together.” He said, gesturing to a small table laden with food. I stood from the bed and walked over to the table, sitting down on one of the chairs. Ramsay smelled of mulled wine and he staggered drunkenly over to the table, sitting down heavily opposite me. “Colemon!” Ramsay called. Cole entered the tent with a jug of mulled wine. He came over to us and filled our cups. “He will be taking over Reek’s serving duties until my pet returns.” Ramsay informed, picking at some of the food. I shot a worried look at Cole. What if Ramsay turned him into another Reek? “Eat.” Ramsay ordered. I picked at some fruit and drank deeply from the wine. “Have you had word from Reek yet?” I asked.  
“No.” Ramsay replied bluntly. I continued to nibble at a piece of meat. “Father?” I questioned. Ramsay shot me a look that told me he was irritated by my questions. “Is there something wrong brother? You seem troubled.” I reached across the table and gently touched his hand. He looked slightly shocked at the gesture. I could feel Cole watching me. “It is nothing. Is all well with you? You seem to be a lot quieter these days.” He tried to mimic my concern.  
“I merely hope that we will successfully take the north.” I answered, smiling.  
“We will. Once we have taken Moat Cailin we shall travel to Barrowton.”  
“Barrowton? We are to see my aunt?” I asked surprised.  
“Yes, it is father’s wish. We need to stay allied with Lady Dustin.” Ramsay practically spat the name. I knew he was no fonder of my aunt than she was fond of him. I sat back in my chair. “This conversation bores me. I have enough of the like with Willem and Theomar. Come, let us find another sort of entertainment.” His eyes darkened with desire as he stood. I allowed him to take my hand and pull me up from my chair. He held me close to him. “Colemon, stand outside. Don’t let anyone enter.” Ramsay ordered, never taking his eyes off of me.  
“Yes m’lord.” Cole muttered. I didn’t dare to watch him go. I didn’t want Ramsay to see the longing in my eyes. Ramsay led me gently to the bed, being surprisingly kind.

I did not allow the shame to come as soon as I awoke. Ramsay held me in his arms, still asleep. I enjoyed the closeness. I drew circles on his chest with my fingers; the bed wasn’t really big enough for two of us so I had slept almost on top of him. Beneath my head and the skin on his chest, I could hear his heart beating rhythmically. I smiled at its song. Then a shadow fell across the entrance to the tent. I could spy Cole watching me through the gap and the shame returned to me. He smiled sadly at me, almost as though he understood why I had done it. I saw him take a deep breath before he entered the tent. “M’lord, Reek has returned.” He announced, waking Ramsay. Ramsay looked up at him and stumbled out of bed. He pulled on his breeches and I rearranged the sheets so that my entire body was covered. “Don’t be silly sister, get dressed.” Ramsay slurred his order, still slightly tipsy. I looked unsurely at Cole. He did not look at me, knowing what was likely to happen if he did. “Has he returned with Ironborn’s?” Ramsay asked.  
“Yes m’lord, Moat Cailin is yours.” Cole announced, flashing a brilliant smile. Ramsay moved with a new found energy and downed another cup of wine. “Come sister, hurry up and dress!” Ramsay ordered. I did, pulling my clothes on more hastily. He staggered out of the tent in the direction of Moat Cailin. Cole watched him go and then turned back to me. We smiled at each other. I could see he wanted to come and hold me as much as I wanted him to but we restrained ourselves. I raised my chin and walked out of the tent, not chancing a look at Cole who always stayed exactly three paces behind me. I smiled at that; how precise and dutiful he was. “Colemon?” I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.  
“My full name. Couldn’t have him hear the name Cole now could I?” He asked mischievously. I looked back at him in surprise; I had not told him that I had muttered his name when I was with Ramsay. “Yes, I knew.” He replied, his face set in a stern mask as we neared a gathering of men. They parted quickly as I approached and I walked towards Ramsay who was now surrounded by his bitches that snapped and barked at the group of strangers that stood in front of Ramsay, behind Reek. I watched as Reek dismounted and kneeled before his master. I stopped behind the crowd of Ramsay’s favourites, just about hearing Reek say “My lord, Moat Cailin is yours. Here are its last defenders.” I felt Cole move and stand beside me. I didn’t look up at him but I did smile. We watched, my eyes narrowing in suspicion, as Ramsay ordered his men to give the Ironborn’s wine and food, and for those that were injured to be taken to the maesters. I watched, slightly shocked, as the Ironborn men passed him and thanked him for his mercy. Had they heard nothing of my brother’s actions? I felt Cole’s warm hand slip into mine. Everyone was too interested in cussing and cursing the Ironborn’s. The crowd had lessened with the exit of our new guests, yet Ramsay’s conversation with Reek wasn’t within hearing. He held Reek close to him, arm placed gently around his shoulders, and spoke soft, dangerous words to him. Reek too looked shocked at his sudden kindness. After they exchanged some seemingly gentle and promising words, Ben Bones led Reek away and Ramsay turned back to me. Cole immediately released my hand and took a step back. “Forgive me my sister, I shall not be returning to you and I shall have no need of you for now. Colemon, please escort my sister back to her tent.” Ramsay ordered.  
“Yes m’lord. This way m’lady.” Cole gestured to the way we came. I stepped towards my brother and raised my hand to his cheek. He watched me curiously. “Make them scream.” I whispered. He smiled, his pale eyes gleaming. He roughly grabbed my hand and kissed it, then followed in the path of the Ironborn’s. I turned back to Cole who raised a quizzical eyebrow at me. I simply shrugged and smiled before leading the way back to the tent.

“I hope you will rest well m’lady.” Cole said courteously. I was sick of the pretence. “On the contrary, I do not intend to rest at all.” I glanced at him suggestively. He sighed before walking towards me and kissing me passionately. I began to unlace his jerkin. “What if someone interrupts us?” He breathed.  
“Then I’ll slit their throat before they can draw another breath.” I smiled. Cole grabbed my wrist before I could unlace his breeches. “No.” He said, pulling away.  
“What? You’ve had me once and now you do not wish to have me again?” I asked angrily.  
“No, I won’t have you now because it is not I you will be making love to.” He informed bluntly.  
“What in seven hells do you mean?”   
“You are not behaving as you do with me, you are behaving as you do with your brother.” He said. I froze in realisation. It was true that I did not feel now what I did before when I was with Cole. “Look at me.” Cole commanded, holding my face in his hands. I did, though fearful of what I would see in them. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to choose.” He said sadly. “If you wish to remain his, then I will make it easy for you and I will leave.”  
“No!” I exclaimed. Then I calmed myself and looked deeper into his eyes. I found a calm there; like the freedom I felt those times I had spent with Cole in the forest. “I love you.” I whispered.  
“And I you.” He replied smiling. Noticing the change in my mood, he kissed me again. “Now, whereabouts were we?” He asked, laughing softly. I smiled shyly and moved my hands back to the laces of his breeches. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit all over the place but then so are Leila's emotions, just bare with it.


	30. Terrible Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When her father arrives at Moat Cailin with a new toy for Ramsay, Leila delves into her past and shares some Bolton wisdom.

After three days, Ramsay had still not returned to my bed. He had been extremely busy; taking Moat Cailin and dealing with other duties around the camp. He had dealt with the Ironborn’s as I had expected him to. Their screams had kept me awake for most of the first night, not that Cole and I had gotten much sleep. We had spent as much time together as was possible; revisiting my lessons. Once I had learnt as much as he wished me to, we would go to the bed. Myranda was somewhat distracted, having been charged with entertaining some men around the camp, so there was little risk of her discovering us.

I was sitting in his arms, we were both hiding in a small thicket of woodland, enjoying one another’s company. I looked over at the causeway to see the vanguard of my father’s army marching towards the camp. “Father!” I whispered suddenly.  
“What?” Cole had been deep in thought. I stood up quickly to leave. “Wait here for a while, so it looks like we weren’t together.” I ordered quickly.  
“Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” He asked, laughing.  
“Of course not, I just don’t want to see you killed.” I replied in all seriousness. I half-ran down the hill towards the camp.

When I reached Ramsay who stood in front of father’s vanguard, father was climbing out of a large, covered wagon. He strode towards us. Reek stood beside and a little behind Ramsay, now back in his rags, with a newly fashioned collar around his neck. “Father.” Ramsay said, kneeling in the dirt.  
“Father.” I echoed, attempting a curtsey.  
“You may rise.” Father turned away to help two women clamber down from the wagon. The first woman was Fat Walda. Ramsay kissed her hand. I nodded slightly, offering little courtesy. I was too busy watching the second woman, not a woman, a girl. She wore a grey dress, trimmed with white fabric, and over it a cloak fastened with a wolf head broach. She was very slim and tall, brown eyed with dark brown hair that fell in ringlets down her back. “I’m sure you will recall the Lady Arya. Your betrothed.” The words sounded far away. I turned to look at Ramsay who did not seem shocked at the new arrival. “Arya? Arya Stark?” I muttered, it was loud enough that my father heard.  
“Yes Leila, Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell.” Father informed flatly, as though I were a fool. I turned back to the girl. She eyed me nervously with big, frightened brown eyes. That was wrong. I remember seeing Arya briefly at the Twins. That Arya had grey eyes, the eyes of the Stark’s. The girl’s hair was long and dark, rippling as she trembled either out of fear or the cold. That was wrong too. When I had seen Arya, her hair was cropped short. There was no possible way that it would have been able to grow so long so quickly since then. “Lord Ramsay.” The girl stepped forward timidly and curtsied. “I pray that I will make you a good wife and give you strong sons to follow after you.” I looked at Ramsay who was watching the scared little creature with evil glee in his eyes. “That you will.” He promised, “And soon.” I could almost hear the cogs in his head start to turn as he began to plot what vile games he could play with her. I glanced over at Reek who was looking at the girl in realisation. He knew her, that was for sure. Perhaps I had heard the man wrong, and I hadn’t seen Arya Stark. I recalled a distant memory; I was sitting in a tent beside a woman with long auburn hair and blue eyes. She told me tales of her children. Her Robb, the King in the North, the eldest, handsome and brave. Her Sansa, a beauty, accomplished at her lessons, a skilled lady. Her Bran, who used to love to climb and run, who had lost the use of his legs after being thrown from a high tower. Her Rickon, who was so young, too young to be left for so long a time. And her Arya, who always did what she wanted, who preferred to fire arrows and wield wooden sword than to hold a sewing needle. Her Arya who’d had inherited the Stark looks; grey eyes, long faced and brown hair. No. Her mother’s description was the truth. This girl was an imposter. She was not Arya Stark. “Colemon, take my stepmother and my Lady Arya to my sister’s tent, until they have a place to stay.” Ramsay ordered. Cole had appeared behind me without my knowing. I turned to him. He looked at me, sensing something was wrong, before leading the two women away. “You should go with them.” Father said to me.  
“Should I?” I asked coldly. I would not yield. I wanted to know what was going on. Father sighed and ordered Ramsay to take us to his tent.

We sat in front of father, as though we were two children ready to be scolded. He sat and looked at us. “I suppose we have your creature to thank for Moat Cailin.” Father said to Ramsay.  
“He has been rewarded.” Ramsay smiled to himself.  
“And you, daughter, why are you so quiet?” Father asked me.  
“I have not been asked to speak.”  
“That has never stopped you before. What are you thinking about?” His voice was not caring.  
“I am thinking about how Lady Arya looks so little like Lady Arya.” I stated. He had wanted to know. “Girls grow up.” He said coldly.  
“Yes girls grow up. I am one, I know what happens. But I don’t recall my eyes changing colour.” I replied. Father’s face remained unchanged. “We need the North. We need to gain allies in the North. We need the Stark girl to get the allies to keep the North.” He informed.  
“But we don’t have a Stark!” I exclaimed.  
“No. But no one else needs to know that.” Ramsay piped up.  
“No one is foolish enough to believe that. She looks nothing like Arya Stark!” I cried incredulously. Ramsay’s hand shot out faster than I anticipated. He pinched the skin so hard that I cried out. “Keep. Your voice. Down.” He growled. I twisted my arm away from his grasp and stared at him in shock. Then I looked at father. He looked to me, then to Ramsay, then back to me again. “How do you know what Arya Stark looks like?” Father asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.  
“In case you have forgotten father, I was once frequently in her mother’s company. She told me that Arya has the grey eyes of the Starks.” I said. Father kept his icy eyes on me. “Is there anything else you wish to say?” He asked.  
“Yes. Why was I not told of this marriage?” I mumbled. Ramsay turned to look at me. I kept my eyes down. “That’s simple. I didn’t see any reason to inform you of the match.” Father informed coldly.  
“No reason? I am a Bolton. I share blood with you. And…and Ramsay is my brother.” I argued, my mood blackening. I grasped the arms of the chair tightly. Father just watched me with his cool gaze. Again his attention switched from me to Ramsay and back again. “We will march to Barrowton on the morrow. Lady Dustin has agreed to let you, Lady Arya, Lady Walda and I stay at Barrow Hall. You, Ramsay, will stay with Harwood Stout, it is less than a mile from Barrow Hall but Lady Dustin will not have you there.” Father said. I could feel Ramsay tense beside me. Father looked at us both again. “Lady Arya and Lady Walda will share your tent for the night.” Said father to me. I just stared at him coldly. “You may leave us.” He ordered, pouring himself a goblet of wine. I did not move. “Go.” His voice was cold and commanding. I stood reluctantly and stormed from the tent. Everyone moved quickly to get out of my path as I marched to my tent. I tore through the canvas door, making the two women inside leap to their feet. They muttered a quick greeting but I hardly noticed it. To my surprise, Cole was still in there. “M’lady.” He said sternly, though his forehead creased with concern.  
“Leave us.” I commanded. He hesitated, then bowed and left the tent. I looked at the women. For a fleeting moment, I wondered which one would be better to kill first. Then the moment passed by. I could still see the fear in their eyes; I could smell it. My Bolton’s blood began to resurface. Ramsay was going to have so much fun with his new bride. “My lady, are you quite well?” Fat Walda piped up in her squeaky voice.  
“Yes, never better.” I replied bitterly. I walked over to the table and poured myself a goblet of wine. I downed it in one. “Your father suggested you call me Mother.” She muttered. I poured and downed another goblet. “Really? Have you any idea what happened to the last woman that I called mother?” I asked sitting down.  
“No my lady.” Her voice was almost a whisper. Both women kept their heads down. “Would you like to hear about my mother?” My tone was dangerously kind.  
“If you wish, my lady.” She squeaked. I sat back in the chair and filled the goblet again. “My mother was as cold as the northern wind. They say it was the ice in her soul that took her. She died in agony, a fever. It fucked up her mind. I sat by her bed those last days. I never left her side. Yet all she wanted was her son, our dear dead Domeric. I watched her writhe in pain as the fever burned through her. I thought that if I stayed by her side, all the evil things would see that I would not be beaten, that they would have to leave first. In the end, my father dragged me, kicking and screaming away from her bed, ordering the maester to give her milk of the poppy.” My laughter made them both look up. “Forgive me, I’ve only just realised. My father dragged me from that bed. I was stupid enough to think that staying there would make the evil things fly away, it turns out that evil things had the power to take me away and kill my mother. My father told me that evil wins. It seems he was right. The evil thing, our devil’s blood, dragged me away from my own mother.” I looked deeply into their terrified eyes, my voice as cold as ice. “Yes, we Bolton’s have devil’s blood passed down to us. It stirs when we smell the fear of those around us. We love to taste it. Our moods snap…like that.” I smiled, snapping my fingers. “Your children will have it too, if Ramsay lets them live that is. If they cry too loudly he might just rip their little throats out. Once they tear themselves from between your legs, there’ll be no stopping them. It’s true that Domeric was a sweet man, but he died. Ramsay poisoned him. I was sweet once too. But Ramsay killed that girl, peeled back the skin until he revealed the Bolton blood beneath. Yes, your children will be just like me. Your sons will be just like Ramsay.” I continued to smile as I inhaled the scent of fear, downing the goblet of wine with it. My smile widened as the imposter Arya let out a small whimper.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, not so nice Leila has returned. You didn't think it was going to be all hunky dory did you? So, as I have some free time at the moment, I have been having a GoT marathon. Today I watched the episode with the battle of Blackwater Bay. The last bit of this chapter is sort of inspired by Cersei's little drunken talk during the siege, only House Bolton style.


	31. Drunken Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila speaks from the wine instead of her heart and the Bolton army march to Barrowton.

I lounged in my chair as I watched the girl bite back her tears, Fat Walda tentatively tried to calm her, shooting nervous glances at me. “M’lady, the master of horses requests your presence, there is trouble in the horse lines.” Cole burst through the door. He took in my wicked smile and the terrified women. I sighed. “Very well, please ladies, do help yourselves to wine.” I stood, and stumbled away from them. I failed to walk towards him in a straight line. Cole followed me out the tent. “So, what’s this trouble that the horse lines are having?” I slurred.  
“There is no trouble. I wanted to speak to you.” He replied.  
“You little liar!” I gasped sarcastically.  
“You’re drunk.”   
“You don’t say.” I snapped back.  
“What’s going on? Why are you so upset?” He asked, picking me up as I stumbled.  
“Upset? Why would I be upset? My brother is to marry some person pretending to be another person. That means that you get me all to yourself.” I smiled at him.  
“I don’t want you if you’re going to be like this.” He mumbled.  
“Like this? This is who I am. Stop trying to change me. If you don’t like it then fuck off and find someone who does not have the name Bolton.” I pulled away from him, angrily. He stared at me darkly. “Fine. Like I said, if you want me to leave you alone then I will. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll leave.” He spat, his green eyes sparkled in the night.  
“Leave.” I said. I saw the pain in his eyes but I didn’t care. He dropped his head. “Then this will be fare well. Goodbye Leila.” He muttered before disappearing into the darkness. I watched him go, feeling nothing.

It was dark when I stumbled into Ramsay’s tent. As I stumbled towards his bed, I knocked over a small table, sending it crashing to the floor. “Shit!” I slurred as I rubbed my shin. Ramsay sat up in bed. “Leila? What in seven hells are you doing here sister?” He croaked groggily.  
“How could you not tell me you were to be married?” I growled.  
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”  
“Yes, you do. When you and father stayed up all night that is what you were talking about. You knew and you didn’t tell me!” I cried.  
“Hush! This doesn’t change anything. You are mine, you’ll always be mine!” He stood from the small bed and walked over to me, wrapping his strong arms around me.   
“But you are to be married.” I protested.  
“To hold the North and to breed sons. It does not change us.” His voice was almost a growl, defiant, as though he would fight the world for things to remain the same. I looked up into his face and kissed him deeply. “I love you.” I slurred, smiling.  
“And I you sweet sister. We cannot be together tonight, father is too close.” He said, wresting his chin on my head and holding me tightly. It felt good to be so close to him. “Very well.” I mumbled. As I turned to exit the tent, I stumbled and fell. He picked me up, cradling me in his arms. “Been at the wine sister?” He asked, smiling.  
“It’s better than the food.” I mumbled, resting my head against his bare shoulder. He was barefooted, with only his breeches on. I recalled another man who used to dress like that. He carried me out of the tent, in the direction of my tent. “Ramsay?” I heard my father call. I felt Ramsay spin around to face him. “What is going on?” He asked sternly. I turned my head to look at him. “Hello father.” I mumbled.  
“You’re drunk.” He said.  
“Just a little bit.” I breathed, wresting my head back on Ramsay’s shoulder.  
“I’ll take her back to her tent father.” Ramsay said.  
“Very well.” Father replied. His eyes lingered on me for a moment before walking away. Ramsay continued towards the tent. When we ducked under the tent flap, I was still in his arms. The two women had not yet gone to bed. Walda was sitting next to the imposter Arya, whose eyes were now red and puffy. They both stood as soon as we entered the tent, their eyes fearful at Ramsay’s unexpected entrance. But he wasn’t looking at them. He carried me over to the bed and set me down on my side. With an unusual gentleness, he pulled the blanket up around me and lightly kissed me on the head. “Goodnight sweet sister.” He whispered. My eyelids drooped as I heard the tent door close.

It took us longer than expected to reach Barrowton. The wagon that carried Fat Walda and the imposter Arya as well as Wyman Manderly’s litter that had joined us slowed us down greatly. Father had suggested that I too should travel in the wagon, as befitted a lady. Of course I had refused. I instead rode beside my brother for the journey. He was still being kind; giving me compliments, making polite conversation and even an occasional joke. Despite his gentleness, it didn’t stop me from looking back over my shoulder. I would scan the lines multiple times. I could never see the sparkling green eyes I was looking for.

When we were nearing Barrowton, a rider rode up the line, informing my father that two Frey boys had gone missing. Father had immediately ordered Ramsay to take his boys and his bitches to find them before he went on to Harwood Stout’s keep. Ramsay left, reluctantly. I could see how little he cared for these boys. “Goodbye brother.” I said. He smiled at me, turned Blood and rode off, his men, dogs, and Reek followed. I urged Arianne into a trot to ride silently beside my father. It was not long before the unfamiliar wooden walls of Barrow Hall dominated the horizon, the banners rippled in the gentle evening breeze; four horseheads, one grey, one black, one gold and one brown. The Ryswell banner. Above that flew the stag and the lion of the King. “We have a new King now.” My father informed. I wasn’t sure if it was to me, but I replied all the same. “What?”  
“King Joffrey was poisoned at his own wedding. His brother Tommen now sits on the throne.” He said coldly. I said nothing as we rode through the gatehouse and into the grassy courtyard. The stable boys hurried forward to grab our horses. Arianne snapped at hers at first, not liking the haste of it. I leapt down and stroked her neck. I turned around to see the two women being helped out of the wagon. “My Lord, my Ladies, Lady Dustin requests your presence in the Great Hall.” A man appeared in front of us, his face grave. My father just nodded and led the way up the wooden steps that climbed up the side of the Great Barrow.

***

_Lady Dustin found herself pacing the width of the hall, waiting for their arrival. She had not seen her niece in years. She had only been a little girl, come to visit her older brother Domeric. Lady Dustin would admit it to no one, but she feared that the years may have changed her niece. She would not blame her; her mother had been cold, her father was passionless, her true brother was dead and she had been abandoned for a time with her bastard brother. Lady Dustin was surprised the girl was still alive. She heard footsteps echoing in the hall outside. She stopped and listened as they neared the large wooden door, clasping her hands together tightly. The doors swung open and Roose Bolton entered first. She gave him a respectful nod, but her gaze was drawn elsewhere. Behind him was a young girl, no more than five and ten years of age. The ghost grey eyes told Lady Dustin that this was the niece she had been waiting for. She scanned her face. The girl had the thin lips of her father, the bottom one had been split open. Her skin was pale, almost white, except for a bruise on her forehead that was only just yellowing. Messy dark hair framed her narrow face, passing just below her shoulders. Leila’s cheekbones stood out on her face. She looked older than her five and ten years. Her eyes cut like knives as she took in her surroundings, her movements were sharp and tense. The cold eyes settled on Lady Dustin. Gone was the warm youth she had met many years ago. She had once reminded her of her nephew Domeric. Now she was almost a stranger. Lady Dustin feared that the years of loss and the cruelty she had undoubtedly experienced at the hands of the bastard of Bolton had changed the girl and robbed her of the innocence of her youth._

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I need to make Lady Dustin sound more like Lady Dustin, but they are sort of her inner thoughts and it is known that she was fond of Domeric so I figured that she would be concerned about what to expect from her niece.


	32. Words That Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila has dinner at Barrow Hall and receives surprising news. She is later visited by Lady Dustin, whose words are brutally honest.

I recalled a vague memory of the woman that stood in front of me. She was older than I remembered and had more lines and wrinkles on her face. She still stood, straight-backed and proud. She looked at me, not my father or the women behind me, but at me. I didn’t doubt she had expected something different. I had been younger when I’d first met her. Domeric and my mother had still been alive and we had not heard the name of my brother. “Lady Dustin.” My father gave a sharp bow.  
“Lady Dustin.” I echoed, and gave a shallow curtsey. The woman continued to watch me. “Welcome to Barrow Hall.” She said bluntly. “You must be weary after your journey. I shall have you shown to your rooms. You are invited to dine with me shortly.” It didn’t sound like an invite, more like an order.   
“You have my thanks, Lady Dustin. My daughter, my wife, the Lady Arya and I will gladly join you for dinner.” Father replied. I curtsied again and felt Lady Dustin’s eyes follow me as I followed a serving girl out of the room.

The room was square in shape due to Barrow Hall’s square towers. But it was warm and less damp than the Dreadfort. Myranda was unpacking my clothes when I entered. “I didn’t expect to find you here.” I said coldly.  
“I am your maid, it is my duty to…”  
“You are my brother’s bedwarmer.” I cut in bluntly.  
“As are you.” She shot back. I smiled. “Yes, as am I. How lonely he shall be without us.” She turned away from me to pick up the clothes she had chosen for dinner. “No dresses.” I said coldly as she held one up. She held my gaze for a moment. Then she gave in and picked up some clean breeches and my best jerkin. “That boy who was in my chambers back at the Dreadfort, you knew him?” I asked as she laced up the back of the jerkin.  
“I…I have known many men m’lady.” I smiled as she stammered out her excuse.  
“Really?” I questioned, still smiling.  
“Yes m’lady.” She replied, pulling the laces tight.  
“I thought it might be because he was the son of one of the old crones that took my baby from me.” I felt her hands freeze on my back.  
“Was he? I don’t recall.” She mumbled.  
“Well, now you know.” My smile widened as she stepped back.   
“You are ready m’lady.” She said.  
“Thank you, Myranda.” I replied and walked from the room without as much as a look at her.

_***_

_If she had been shocked when she’d first seen her niece, she was shocked further by her entrance for dinner. Lady Dustin watched as the girl entered, alone, wearing a new pair of breeches and a clean, tightly laced leather jerkin. She sat down at the table before being told to and lounged against the back of the chair. When the food came, she would stab at the meat with her fork, rarely using the knife to cut it. Lady Dustin tried not to wrinkle up her nose and show her disdain. The girl appeared to be more of an animal than a lady. Lady Dustin looked at the others. The Lady Arya and Lady Bolton ate daintily, taking small mouthfuls of their food and chewing slowly, well the Lady Arya ate a great deal slower than the large Lady Bolton. Lord Roose barely ate anything at all. “We thank you again for your hospitality, Lady Dustin.” He said. She gave him a tight smile. “I’m glad to see your bastard has done as I bid.” She wasn’t going to sugar coat her pleasure at not seeing the boy._  
“Ramsay is staying at Harwood Stout’s keep, until he and the Lady Arya are wed, then we shall move on to Winterfell.” Roose informed.  
“You are to make your bastard Lord of Winterfell?” She asked.  
“Yes. Though he has now been legitimized by our grace, King Tommen.” Roose took a sip of his wine.  
“What?” Lady Dustin looked over as her niece spoke, spluttering on her wine. She had stopped eating, her eyes watching her father. “His grace, King Tommen, has seen fit to legitimize Ramsay and name him my heir, as reward for our loyalty and hand in ending the war.” Roose said the words coldly, his voice cutting. Lady Dustin observed the flash of anger in her niece’s eyes. It was gone as soon as it came and she resumed to silently eat her meal. “It does come as a shock that you would so willingly name your bastard, a supposed kinslayer, as your heir.” Lady Dustin said the words to Lord Roose, but did not take her eyes away from her niece. The girl looked at her, as though surprised that she had spoken so openly. “I need a strong heir for the North. Until my wife bears a son, Ramsay is all I have.” Roose said. He did not look at his daughter. “He is not all you have. But I agree you need a strong heir for the North. Such a shame you lost your last one. A sickness of the bowels wasn’t it? Domeric was such a lovely boy.” Lady Dustin tried not to let the surprise show in her words. Her niece did not react to her brother’s name; she continued to eat and did not look up. Lady Dustin looked along the table, her eyes resting on Arya Stark. The girl had stopped eating, keeping her eyes on her lap. “May I be excused?” Said Leila, Lady Dustin turned to look at her. She sensed it had not been a question. The girl rose from her chair and left the hall. Lady Dustin noticed that Lord Roose did not react to his daughter’s rude exit; he merely drank from his goblet and continued to eat.

_***_

I stormed from the hall and marched all the way back to my chambers. Myranda was still there when I flew through the door. “Out!” I growled. She could tell that I was not to be argued with and left me alone. I slumped down beside the fire, staring into the flames. I can’t recall how long I had sat there for, watching the flames dance on the coals, but before long there was a knock on the door. “Enter!” I called after a moment. I got up and poured myself a goblet of wine. I took a long drink and then turned to face the door. Lady Dustin entered the room. She moved with confidence and grace, her strides strong and definite. She would be intimidating if I had cared. “Lady Dustin.” I acknowledged her presence and took another gulp of wine.  
“Please, call me Aunt Barbrey.” She moved around the room, running her fingers along the furniture, checking for dust.  
“If it please you.” I replied bluntly. “Wine?” I asked, pouring myself another goblet.  
“No, thank you.” She answered, turning her gaze to me. As I drank, she walked over to stand in front of me. She was half a head taller than me. She grabbed my chin with her long hands. “How did you get those bruises, and that split lip?” She asked, her gaze calculating.  
“I fell over a tree root.” I replied immediately. She smiled wanly and released my face. “Do you take me for a fool?” She asked. I looked at her, searching her face, before taking another mouthful of wine. “I heard your father left you with his bastard.” She stated. I raised my chin, knowing where the conversation was going. “Yes, father was under orders from Robb Stark. He had to leave me behind with my brother…”  
“No. He is not your brother.” She cut in.  
“Yes, he is. We share blood and soul.” I argued.  
“Do you share body too?” She asked coldly. I moved away from her. “I don’t know what you mean.” I said.  
“I think you do. It angered me to hear that your father had left you with such a monster.”  
“He is not a monster. He can be cruel at times, yes. But…he has also been…gentle.” I protested. I kept my back to her and downed the rest of the wine. “Again, you mistake me for a fool. I should have invited you to stay here with me.” She half said it to herself.  
“I don’t need your help.” I mumbled.  
“I was fond of your brother. Such a pleasant boy. He made a good page. I will never forget the day his younger sister visited him. She loved him very much, as he did her. She adored him. Do you remember what love feels like Leila? Have you become as passionless as your father?” Her question was blunt, I admired the way she spoke so openly. It made it obvious as to why Ramsay hated her so much. “I am not passionless.” I replied coldly.  
“And love? Have you experienced that too?” She asked.  
“Yes.” I muttered. I heard her move towards me. “I know how it feels. Have you had it taken from you?” I could hear the sadness in her voice.  
“No. I threw it away.” I admitted, turning to face her but not meeting her gaze. She moved closer and used one long, pale finger to raise my chin so my eyes met hers. “Then there is hope for you yet child.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping I got the voice of Lady Dustin right, I can't wait to develop the relationship between her and Leila further, I think Leila could learn a lot from her.


	33. A Sickness of the Bowels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Lady Dustin's attempts at making Leila a Lady, the Bolton blood still runs strong.

It was never said out loud, but I could tell that I had begun a form of training. I was forced to sit down for too long a time and attempt to embroider a scrap of fabric. I was sent to a dressmaker and was measured for new gowns. I was taught how to eat and sit at the dinner table properly and Aunt Barbrey ordered for my wine to be watered down. My only escape was going out riding. I always rode out with someone, and they always made me ride in the opposite direction to Harwood Stout’s keep, but at least I got to feel the wind through my hair and hear Arianne’s hooves devour the ground. The bodyguard whom I rode with, Benjen, always complimented my riding. “I knew your brother.” He said one day. I looked over at him. He was about the same age as Domeric would be, perhaps slightly older. “Yes?” I replied, unsure of what else to say.  
“Yes. He was a good man, a boy when I first met him. He rode well. You ride much like him. It saddened me to hear of his death.” He kept his eyes on the trail in front of us.  
“A sickness of the bowels.” I sighed.  
“Supposedly.” He replied.  
“I know many believe that my brother Ramsay was responsible for his death.”  
“Do you believe it?” He asked, turning to look at me.  
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to.” I muttered.  
“I refuse to believe that it was due to natural means. When your brother left us to go to the Vale of Arryn, he was perfectly healthy.”   
“Well perhaps the mountain air didn’t agree with him.” I snapped. I kicked roughly into Arianne’s sides and she set off in a speedy canter, leaving Benjen in the dust.

We rode a circuit around the forest, looping round so that we were soon riding back to Barrow Hall. “Forgive my sharp words, Benjen.” I said.  
“Of course my lady, I understand. It must not be an easy subject.” He replied.  
“Yes, I was very young at the time. But, now that I think of it, I am curious as to what poison may have been used. Is there any way I could find out?” I asked innocently.  
“I’m sorry my lady, perhaps it wasn’t best to…”  
“Please. I want to know.” I cut in, fixing him with a commanding stare.  
“Poison is frowned upon by high lords and knights, but I know that our maester holds some in his chambers. He would be the one to ask.” He informed, lowering his voice slightly.  
“Will you take me to him when we return to Barrow Hall?” I asked.  
“My lady, you will be late for your embroidering session with Lady Dustin.” He protested.  
“Fuck the embroidery. I’m sick of stabbing my finger repeatedly, the only thing I decorate my scrap of fabric with is blood stains.” He laughed at that and then fell silent.  
“Forgive me for asking my lady, but why a sudden interest in poison? If it were my brother who had been poisoned I think I would want to let his spirit rest.” He looked at me then and I fixed him with a cold and definite stare.  
“It is not for my brother I seek the information. You never know when you need to kill someone.” I replied matter of factly. I laughed at his shocked expression.

He did as he was bid, leading me to the maester’s chambers almost as soon as we had dismounted. The chambers were dark, filled with piles of books and an uncountable number of bottles and jars. The room was so cluttered that it was impossible to walk two abreast; a narrow path was made with several others branching off and leading to different rooms. “Maester Donal?” Benjen called. An elderly man shuffled out of a room from the back and moved, surprisingly quickly, towards us. “Good afternoon Benjen. Is there something I can help you with?” He croaked. Despite him being old, the maester still stood with a straight back. “Maester Donal, this is…”  
“Yes, I know who this is. The Bolton girl. I’ve never seen someone who isn’t a Bolton with eyes like that.” The old man studied me with sparkling eyes.  
“Benjen, perhaps you could go and inform Lady Dustin that I am weary after my ride and unable to join her for our embroidery session.” I ordered. Benjen hesitated, not wishing to lie to his Lady. “Now please Benjen.” My voice had turned cold.  
“Yes, of course my lady.” He bowed quickly and hurried from the room.  
“What is it that is ailing you my lady?” The old man asked.  
“Nothing that a potion can fix.” I replied.  
“Do you wish for moon tea?” His question was blunt and direct, but I did not let it baffle me.  
“Gods no.” I laughed slightly.  
“Then what is it I can do for you?” He turned away from me and attempted to begin tidying the room.  
“Benjen said you know about poisons.”  
“Aye, I do.” The old man admitted without hesitation.  
“I wish to know more about them.” I lied.  
“Poison is frowned upon. It is usually considered as a woman or a bastard’s weapon.” He informed.  
“Please, show me. Such things have always fascinated me.” I smiled sweetly. He turned and narrowed his eyes, regarding me with suspicion. “This way my dear.” He led the way down the path to a small room at the back. It had only one small window to let light in. The walls were lined with shelves and shelves of bottles and small phials of liquid, as well as jars of powdered substances and leaves of unnameable plants. “This is powdered greycap made from toadstool. Its symptoms are somewhat hard to define so it’s a common poison. Here we have bottles of manticore and basilisk venom. These are harder to come by but are incredibly vicious, there are ways to slow the effects of the manticore venom to make the experience more painful for the victim.” As he listed the poisons in his store, I scanned the shelves. My eye was drawn to a small phial of clear liquid. “What is this?” I asked picking the bottle up and turning it in my fingers.   
“Ah, the Tears of Lys. Rare and expensive but very effective. It has no scent and dissolves in liquid and it tastes as sweet as water they say, making it the perfect weapon. The victim does not realise they have been poisoned until it is too late.” He said it all with such enthusiasm that I too began to get excited.  
“And, how does it kill the person?” I asked, not taking my eyes from the bottle.  
“It causes a sickness of the bowels, eating away the insides.” His eyes shone as I held the bottle up to the light.  
“Perfect.” I breathed, the plan now strong in my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, I didn't want to put too much into this chapter. Any guesses on who the poison is for?


	34. A Painful Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roose delves into the past and brings up numerous memories that prove a painful reminder for Leila.

I stood, slightly behind father, as I watched them both argue. “Taking him? Where? He’s mine. You cannot have him.” Ramsay growled, sounding like a spoilt child. Father had ordered me to accompany him to Harwood Stout’s keep as Aunt Barbrey had wished to see Theon Greyjoy. “All you have I gave you. You would do well to remember that, bastard.” I observed Ramsay’s fist tighten around the dagger he held in his hand. “As for this…Reek…if you have not ruined it beyond redemption, he may yet be of some use to us. Get the keys and remove those chains from him, before you make me rue the day I raped your mother.” Father finished coldly. I recalled the memory of a body swinging above me, and being taken against my will by Ramsay. The smile was gone from my face. I saw Ramsay’s face redden a little and he gripped the chair tighter. For a moment I thought he would leap over the table and carve the amused face off of our father. It wasn’t until Ramsay stood and began to search for the keys that I began to breathe again. Ramsay walked over to the cowering Reek and began to mutter something to him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Reek began to cry and beg not to go. Ramsay gave him a sharp slap that made me wince. “Take him,” he told father, making an attempt to regain some control over the conversation. “He’s not even a man. The way he smells disgusts me.” Ramsay wrinkled his nose as Reek scuttled past him to join father as we headed out the door. “Leila.” Ramsay strode towards me and grabbed my arm, barring my escape. “I wrote to you a few days ago, requesting you return Myranda to me. I didn’t think she was suitable to stay at Barrow Hall.” I smiled as he tried to say it delicately as father had stopped to wait.  
“Letter? I did not receive any letter.” I could not hide my smile.  
“Well then perhaps you could send her to me?” His voice was almost nice.  
“Send her to you? I’m sorry brother but that just isn’t possible.” I replied, still smiling.  
“Why?” He growled, his grip tightening on my arm.  
“Because Myranda is dead.” I still could not wipe the smile from my face.  
“How?” His face darkened, he dug his fingers into my arm and began to shake with a sudden fury. I did not allow it to scare me. I leaned my body in closer, my lips almost tickling his ear. “Sickness of the bowels.” I whispered. I leaned out slowly, smiling at the look of anger on his face. He started forward as though to slap me, then thought better of it. He stepped back, never taking his eyes from me. “Well then, it looks as though I am in need of another bed warmer.” His voice was invitingly evil.  
“But brother, you are to be married soon. Then you shall have someone who is completely, utterly yours.” I smiled wickedly, then brushed past him to join father, leaving Ramsay to stand alone in the hall.

Reek was given a horse and rode beside my father, with me just behind. Reek twitched nervously in the saddle as my father spoke with him. I tried to listen as best I could from behind, especially when father began to speak of the old Reek. I vaguely recalled the man. I had always been kept away from him; they said the stench of him was due to the rotting soul inside him. “Ramsay’s mother appeared at my gates to demand that I provide a servant for my bastard, who was growing up wild and unruly.” My father had never told me this story, and it was not meant for my ears now, but I listened anyway. “I gave her Reek. It was meant to be amusing, but he and Ramsay became inseparable. I do wonder though… was it Ramsay who corrupted Reek, or Reek Ramsay?” I sat motionless on Arianne’s back. I realised I had known very little about Ramsay’s childhood other than the way in which he was conceived. I tuned back into their conversation. “As if he had secrets. Sour Alyn, Luton, Skinner, and the rest, where does he think they came from? Can he truly believe they are _his_ men?” I froze in the saddle at my father’s words, my skin prickled beneath my clothes. I thought of all the times Ramsay had behaved lovingly, or not so much, towards me in the presence of ‘his’ men. He had had each one of them rape me before doing so himself, he had kissed me numerous times when at least one of them had been in the room, and he had always made his pleasure known through noise in bed. Yes, they must all know. And they all worked for my father. “Leila, is all well?” My father’s voice broke through. It didn’t seem to have been asked out of concern. His cold eyes watched my every move. I felt as though he were able to flay me with only his eyes. He turned back to face Reek when he felt he had made me uncomfortable enough. “Has my bastard ever told you how I got him?” Father asked Reek.  
“Yes, my…m’lord. You met his mother whilst out riding and were smitten by her beauty.” Reek stuttered. I would have laughed if I was in the mood for it. My father laughed and said “Smitten? Did he use that word? Why the boy has a singer’s soul…” My father proceeded to explain how he met Ramsay’s mother; every little detail. “The man had cheated me. So I had him hanged,”   
“Please father, can we not?” I begged. Hearing the tale sickened me. “Not what? The boy deserves to know how Ramsay came into this world.”  
“Can we not speak of it while I’m…”  
“While you’re here? Yes, we will. You’ve heard the tale before. Why can you not bear to hear it now? I had no idea you felt such compassion for the boy.” He looked at me coldly. His eyes accused me of crimes that were unspoken. I shivered. I couldn’t form any words that would create a good enough reason; he continued to stare at me, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Reek had also turned to look at me, only his eyes told a different story. He knew about Ramsay and I. I doubt he knew as much as what happened the night that Merryn died. He gave me an almost understanding look before turning back to face the road. My father followed suit after I bowed my head in submission. He continued to tell the tale of how Ramsay came to be, and what came after. Again, I saw a body swinging above me, blood raining down from freshly flayed fingers. Then a shadow blocked the body from view momentarily. The light from the flaming torches danced morbidly on Ramsay’s face. “Ramsay killed him. A sickness of the bowels Maester [Uthor](http://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Uthor) says, but I say poison. In the Vale, Domeric had enjoyed the company of Redfort’s sons. He wanted a brother by his side, so he rode up the [Weeping Water](http://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Weeping_Water) to seek [my bastard](http://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Ramsay_Snow) out.” The words sounded distant and far away, but I was reminded of the time when I watched my brother ride out of the gates of the Dreadfort. He had turned around in his saddle, looked up at me and had waved cheerfully. “Fear not sister! I am to bring us home a brother, I promise.” He had called. I had begged for him to let me join him. _“You broke your promise. You never brought a brother home. Only your body came back.”_ I thought. My father continued, telling the tale coolly as though it were all a story. “I forbade it, but Domeric was a man grown and thought that he knew better than his father. Now his bones lie beneath the Dreadfort with the bones of his brothers, who died still in the cradle, and I am left with Ramsay. Tell me, my lord … if the [kinslayer](http://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Kinslayer) is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?” My father turned away from Reek and looked at the road ahead of us.  
“But my…m’lord, you are not left with only Ramsay.” Reek muttered, turning back to look at me quickly. My father continued to look at the road. “No. But I need a strong heir to warden the North for me when I die.” He turned to face me, his eyes shone coldly in the darkness. “And Ramsay is the strongest one I’ve got.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's quite short. This is basically a chapter from DWD but I didn't want to steal much of GRRM's work so I chose to use some bits that provoke one of Leila's memories and then have her reminisce over them while Roose continues talking. I have yet to watch today's episode of GoT but I saw a clip earlier of Ramsay being named as Roose's heir... I felt the weirdest sense of pride over it XD


	35. The Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila confronts her father but it gives her no comfort. She make a reckless decision.

I didn’t go to my chambers. Father took Reek to go and meet Lady Dustin. He gave me no orders so I sat in his chambers and waited for him. I heard is footsteps coming down the hall and tensed in my chair. He entered the room and began to undo his cloak before he looked up and noticed me. He stared at me for a moment. “I don’t recall requesting your company.” He said coldly.  
“Well, it’s been a long time since you have. I thought we could have a quick chat.” I shot back just as coldly.  
“What about?” He asked.  
“The strongest heir you’ve got.” I seethed, gripping the chair tightly.  
“You know precisely what I meant.” He replied.  
“No I don’t.” I muttered. He moved across the room, throwing his cloak onto the bed. “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” I asked, my voice quiet.  
“I don’t know what you mean.” He said with his back to me.  
“You know precisely what I mean.” I spat his words back at him. He turned his head a little, but still did not raise his eyes to look at me. “What is it that you want?”   
“I want you to treat me as though I am your daughter. Like I am not something you are disappointed in.” I muttered the words, swallowing the lump in my throat.  
“I can’t.” His voice was indifferent.  
“You are disappointed in me?” I asked. He said nothing in reply but poured himself a cup of wine. “ _You_ are disappointed in _me_? I am what you made of me!”   
“It is not my doing. You made your own decisions. You could’ve…defended yourself.” He muttered icily.  
“You left me with Ramsay, you abandoned me to follow your ambition. You did it so that you could be warden of the North, you did not want me in the way. This is what you wanted for me, you said that I was weak hearted so I changed. You have no one to blame for this but yourself, and yet you dare to admit that you are disappointed in _me_?” I cried incredulously.  
“I left you behind because what to come was dangerous.”  
“Don’t try and lie, and say that you did it all to protect me. You did it because you knew what Ramsay would do and you wanted me to be the son that you never had, and now that you have seen me, you no longer want that son and you prefer your bastard. Is that it? Am I just some sort of sick experiment to you?” He slammed the cup down on the table and flew towards me. He grabbed me tightly around the throat. “You think I haven’t had worse than a hand around my throat? You think that it was all sweet words and gentle warnings with Ramsay? Go on. Tighten your grip, put an end to me. But tell me my lord, what is a father to do when he slays his own daughter?” I smiled cruelly at him. He narrowed his eyes and scanned my face before releasing me. “Leave. Now. Do not come to me unless I command you to.” He walked away from me and picked up the goblet, draining the wine from it. I watched him for a moment. “It is your fault.” I muttered accusingly. He ignored me. I stormed from the room. A part of me expected him to call me back, to apologise for what he had done. The thought was foolish, but I remembered a vague memory where my father had been almost caring, and something inside of me couldn’t let it go.

It must have been almost midnight by the time I reached the stables. It was so dark that I could barely see where I was, but Arianne had heard my boots on the cobbles and whinnied quietly, guiding me towards her stable. “Come on girl, we’re leaving.” I whispered. I managed to find her saddle and her bridle and fumbled to do up the straps in the darkness. “Who’s there?” A rough voice called. A dark figure moved in the darkness. Picking up one of the heavy shovels used for cleaning the stables, I crept towards him quietly. The shovel crashed down onto his head and he fell to the floor; I didn’t stop to check if he still breathed, it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be coming back. Arianne danced nervously as I led her out, unsure of what was going on. Before I even had both feet in the stirrups, she bolted out of the stables. I cried out at her sudden speed, struggling to regain balance in the saddle. I clung on to a rope of mane and pulled myself forward, crouching low over her neck. The trees flew past us in a blur, the wind tore and stung my eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was the wind or the words of my father that caused tears to stream down my face. The open road stretched out in front of us. “Run Arianne. Take me far away from this place.” I begged. Arianne was beyond listening. Only now did I realise what a state she was in. She threw her head about wildly and bucked randomly, unseating me momentarily. Suddenly, she swerved to the left, almost completely going off of the road. “Arianne!” I cried, tugging at the reins to try and get her to slow down. Then I realised why she was going so fast. In the woods to our right, something crashed noisily through the undergrowth, mirroring us. I looked over at it, wiping the water from my eyes and squinting into the inky blackness. A horse and its rider were galloping alongside us, the trees did not slow them down and they weaved in between them effortlessly. The pair seemed to have a strange air to them, they almost seemed to glow in the darkness. The rider’s long dark hair bounced with each stride, streaming out behind him as he went. He turned his face towards me and I gasped. His ghost grey eyes shone like two moons in the darkness. “Domeric?” I whispered in disbelief. All of a sudden I heard Arianne squeal. I turned back to face the road. A hooded figure stood in our path. Arianne skidded to a halt, sending me flying through the air and onto the ground. I cried out as I heard a bone snap, pain shooting up and down my arm. I could taste blood in my mouth. Before I allowed the darkness to consume me, I turned my head and watched in horror as the hooded man began to walk towards me. Before I could see his face, my vision clouded and the world disappeared into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short again, but I didn't want to add any more. Writing the Leila and Roose bit was hard enough and I didn't want to go any further. I know the whole Domeric thing seems a bit far fetched but I just wanted to add that in as Leila seems to be all alone in the world at the moment and it's nice to think she has someone looking out for her.


	36. Healing Wounds and Hearts Alike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila awakes to find a piece of her heart returned to her and makes amends with an old acquaintance.

I heard the voices before I opened my eyes. I recognised them both; a man and a woman muttering to each other. Despite recognising the voices, I couldn’t get my head around the meaning of their words and sentences. I moved my head a little and groaned as pain struck like a war hammer to my skull. “Leila?” I heard one of the voices gasp, the man’s voice. I opened my eyes a little. The world was a blur at first; a confused picture of shapes and colours. A shadow moved closer to me and my eyes began to focus a little better. I turned my head towards it, gasping at the pain, and stared into a familiar set of deep green eyes. “Cole?” I muttered. He flashed a brilliant smile at me, his eyes wet and glistening with tears. He was quickly pushed out of the way by Aunt Barbrey. She looked down at me sternly. “Thank the gods! You gave us all a fright niece.” She said with a tired smile. I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but was stopped by a sharp pain that shot up and down my left arm. “Careful! I wouldn’t try that if I were you, m’lady.” Cole now stood just behind Lady Dustin, still smiling.  
“What happened?” I asked groggily, my head still felt as though it were being used as a drum.  
“Don’t you remember anything?” Aunt Barbrey sat on the edge of the bed. I remembered telling Ramsay about Myranda, riding back with Reek and Father. _“He’s the strongest one I’ve got.”_ Father’s words rang clear in my mind and reminded me of the argument. “I remember…speaking with father.” I muttered. Lady Dustin nodded understandingly and rose from the bed. “I shall leave you to rest. Colemon will stay with you. He has been far more help than any maester could’ve been.” She gave him a tight smile and went to leave the room. “Aunt Barbrey!” I called. She turned around slowly. “Has my father come to see me?” I asked, my tone hopeful. She paused and looked down at the floor. “Your father has been very busy. I’m sure he would have come to see you had he been able.” Her tone was blunt as she repeated the words he had put in her mouth. I nodded sharply and bit back the tears until she left the room. I turned my face away from Cole, not wishing for him to see me cry. “Leila?” He muttered after a while. I sniffed. He moved towards me and gently touched my chin, turning me head so that I faced him. He wiped away the tears from my cheeks with his thumb. I noticed that his cheeks were also tear stained. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before.” I admitted, smiling.  
“Well that’s because you haven’t seen me these past few weeks.” He laughed and looked away, his face reddening.  
“I’m sorry. I never meant what I said. I was…”   
“No, it is I who should be sorry. I should never have stood in your path that night. I made Arianne spook. It was my fault that you fell.” His face grew serious, ashamed. “I sat here every day, praying for you to open your eyes. Praying for you to live.” He mumbled.  
“It was you?” I asked, recalling the figure that had stood in our path that night.  
“Yes, I’m sorry. I beg your forgiveness.” He bowed his head.  
“It is I who should be begging forgiveness. Why did you come back?” I asked, fingering his soft hair.  
“Love is wanting to never be without someone.” He said, looking up and into my eyes. I smiled, another cold tear ran down my cheek. “You love me Cole, truly?” I asked.  
“I do. I thank the Gods every day, the old and the new, for throwing you into my life. You are the light of my life, the love of my life. How could I ever live without you? No other woman could ever take your place. I have never met anyone so stubborn, wilful and beautiful in all my life.” I moved my head so it fit into his hand.  
“I am yours, and you are mine.” I breathed. He rested his forehead against mine. “Yes.” He whispered. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

Cole hardly ever left my side. He would bring me any medicine or herbs that would ease the pain. As well as a broken arm, my right ankle was sprained, making it difficult to move around. He understood my need for escaping the confines of my chambers and so would help me around, sometimes carrying me when the pain got too much. When we were in my chambers, he would lie in the bed beside me and hold me in his arms. Aunt Barbrey would also visit to check on me. My father never did. “He is very busy.” Seemed to be Lady Dustin’s favourite excuse. “He doesn’t want to see me. He doesn’t even want me to be his daughter.” I confessed to Cole one night. He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. “He is very busy my love. We are to move to Winterfell soon.” He informed.  
“We?” I asked, resting my chin on his chest.  
“I’m not going to leave you again, unless you want…” I cut him off by planting a kiss on his lips.  
“Never.” I whispered, settling back down so I rested on his chest.  
“I understand the Lady Arya is to marry your brother.” Cole said.  
“Yes. We have to move to Winterfell to strengthen our hold on the North.” My tone was indifferent. I had almost forgotten about the happenings outside mine and Cole’s seemingly perfect world. “Poor girl.” Cole muttered.  
“Will you take me to her tomorrow? There is much I need to say to her.” I asked.  
“Of course, m’lady.” He looked down at me, smiling, before kissing me deeply.

I was able to put some weight onto my left foot now. When we reached Lady Arya’s chambers the next day, I turned to Cole and said “Could you leave me to speak with her alone?”  
“Of course.” He nodded, turned on his heel and left me outside her door. I took a deep breath before knocking. “Enter.” Came a small voice from within.  
“Lady Arya.” I entered the room, limping a little on my bad leg. She was standing by the window, the cold sky from outside framing her profile. She turned to look at me when I limped in. She was very pretty; her long brown hair cascaded down her back, falling in perfect ringlets and her eyes were a deep brown, full of innocence and remnants of hope. “Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude.” I said softly. She looked a little shocked at my gentle words. “Not at all, would you…would you like to sit?” She asked. I smiled at her and sat down on her bed as the room lacked any other seat. “Please, sit with me.” I patted the bed and she obediently came and sat beside me. She was very pale, and thinner than I remembered. She was hesitant to look me in the eye, but that was understandable. Soon enough she’d never want to see eyes like mine again. “I have come to ask for your forgiveness. I was most cruel the last time we spoke. There was no reason for me to be and I apologise.” I said, resting my hand a little awkwardly on hers. She still did not look up at me. “I think there was a reason, my lady.” She muttered quietly.  
“What?” My tone remained gentle.  
“You care…very deeply for your brother, do you not?” She asked, still refusing to meet my gaze.  
“Sometimes, yes.” I replied honestly, I felt no need to hide from her; we were both living our own lies.  
“And he returns those feelings?” I could feel her grip on her dress tighten as she waited nervously for an answer.  
“Yes.” I said, removing my hand from hers. She glanced up at me, her gaze hopeful. “Do you think that Lord Ramsay could ever love me as much?” She asked. It was my turn to be startled. I wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. I looked away from her, not wanting to look into those eyes full of hope. “It won’t be easy. But, perhaps. Just do as you are asked…whatever it may be.” Was the best advice I could give.  
“Is there anything…you did?” She asked timidly.  
“I have done a great many things. But…no, only a Bolton could understand.” I muttered the words coldly, half saying them to myself.  
“I suppose I am to be a Bolton soon.” She tried to make it light hearted, but she could not hide the sense of doom in her voice.  
“You are no more a Bolton than you are a Stark.” I replied bluntly. She looked at me with sudden fear, cowering away from me. “Please…please my lady…don’t tell! I’ll be a good wife to Lord Ramsay, I swear! I’ll be better than the true Arya would have been! If anyone finds out, they’ll most likely kill me. Please…don’t tell!” She begged, sobbing. _“In a few weeks, you’ll see death as a blessing.”_ I thought, but I bit the words back. “Fear not. I will not tell. We both have our secrets. I would appreciate it if you told no one of mine, I in turn will never repeat yours to another.” I promised, looking her in the eye and forcing a smile. She stopped sobbing and smiled sadly back. “Of course my lady, I shall tell no one.” She sniffed. I stood up, wincing at the pain in my ankle. “I thank you, my lady. I must go now.” I said, and limped towards the door. “One last thing…” I turned back to her. “What is your name…your true name?” I asked.  
“It is Jeyne, my lady…Jeyne Poole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn’t write anything these past few days, I was sort of a bit uninspired. Plus everytime I come onto this website this pop up thing comes up saying I need to download flashplayer, and then it turns out not to be flashplayer at all, so I can’t go on here for longer than about five seconds, does anyone know how to sort it out? It’s driving me insane!


	37. Unwelcome Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bolton's finally reach Winterfell, but Leila cannot help but feel that her presence is not welcome.

The journey to Winterfell was a long and uncomfortable one. My ankle was almost healed but my left arm was still broken and I was deemed unfit to ride so father decreed that I would ride with Lady Walda and Jeyne in the wagon. I didn’t argue with him. Had I been fit to ride, it would have meant I would have spent every long hour riding beside him. We had not said a word to one another since the argument. I didn’t want to. Another positive to riding in the wagon was that Cole rode beside it on Arianne. The mare had suffered no injuries and Cole needed a mount. It had been Lady Dustin that had suggested the idea. She had warmed to Cole and I had a feeling that she knew how close Cole and I were. Although the idea of the match was an improper one, I’m sure she preferred Cole to Ramsay. Cole would always ride on my side of the wagon, just beside the window so that we could see each other, and sometimes exchange a few words. He would inform us on the goings on in the ranks as being stuck in the wagon left us isolated. Ramsay and his men joined us just outside Harwood Stout’s keep but we did not see him. Cole rode a little closer to the wagon when he saw Ramsay join the march, so close that if he leant down we could hold hands. The company inside the wagon wasn’t so bad either. Lady Walda was now with child and was in high spirits; she had not spent enough time with Ramsay to learn the fate of the unborn child. I did not inform her that it may accidentally suffer from an early death. She seemed to be very nervous when I first found out about her pregnancy but I smiled and offered my congratulations. My mind was taken back to the child that I had almost born into the world, another Bolton. Jeyne was also trying her best to stay in good spirits, feigning excitement over her upcoming marriage, sometime giving me a secret look which I would smile encouragingly at. Cole never seemed to fail to notice these looks. I would look away from Jeyne to find him watching me. Despite my promise to Jeyne, I had confided the secret of her true identity almost the moment that he had figured out I was hiding something from him. That hadn’t taken very long. He had wrapped me in his arms and told me that I was becoming the girl I had once been, the one he had loved the most.

After a few days of travelling, the broken walls of Winterfell stretched upwards on the horizon. In the failing light of the winter afternoon, we could see its walls were still blackened from where it had been burnt and hardly any tower had been left standing. Despite the uncomfortable ride in the wagon and the cold accentuating every pothole in the road, it felt a lot more inviting than Winterfell looked. We stopped and waited when we were within the ruined walls. Eventually we heard fathers voice near the wagon, along with Ramsay’s. Jeyne looked at me fearfully. The doors to the wagon were swung open and we glimpsed both men waiting on the other side. Firstly my father helped Lady Walda down. Ramsay peered in and looked, first at me, then at Jeyne and then back to me again. He offered his hand out to me. “Ramsay, help your future wife down from the wagon and see that she is comfortable.” Father ordered. Ramsay’s gaze lingered on me. He hesitated before offering his hand to Jeyne. With one last look at me, he helped her down from the carriage. I watched as father led them all away, his arm linked with Lady Walda’s and Ramsay’s with Jeyne’s. “My Lady.” I was grateful to hear Cole’s voice. He appeared soon after and offered me his hand, I smiled and took it. The cold had made the pain in my ankle worsen again and I stumbled as I stepped down. Cole immediately swung me up into his arms. “Cole, no.” I whispered, glancing quickly at Ramsay.  
“My lady, you are weak. The journey has been a long one and the weather unforgiving. It is my duty to protect you and care for you.” He said loudly so that all anyone heard was that he was doing his duty. I returned his secret little smile with my own. “Then I owe you my thanks.” I replied just as loudly. I turned my head away from him and met a set of ghost grey eyes. Ramsay was watching us with a mixture of suspicion and jealousy. I saw Jeyne look up at him timidly and tried to smile kindly at him, which he returned with a warning glance that promised nothing but pain. She looked away quickly and the smile was gone from my face.

We soon caught up with father who was standing just in front of what had once been the Great Keep. Cole set me down gently a little away from Ramsay. He remained beside me so that I could lean on his arm. Ramsay regarded Cole with a dark glance which Cole, wisely, did not meet. “I thought your leg was healed.” Ramsay spat.  
“The cold has not helped with the healing process brother. Father, is there a problem?” I asked, wondering why we had gone no further.  
“I have sent scouts ahead to find any unwanted guests.” Father replied bluntly. I turned to face the crumbling entrance when I heard voices coming from within. It seemed that father’s scouts had found their prey. Half a dozen men and women were dragged out roughly and thrown before father. “Squatters m’lord. There don’t seem to be any more.” Informed one of the scouts. The men and women all looked fearfully up at father. I could smell the fear. The feeling of Cole’s arm stiffening beneath my touch made me repress the urge to enjoy it. “Have you been here long?” Father asked one of the men.  
“We moved in not long after it was burnt to the ground m’lord.” He stuttered.  
“Very well. As you have been here for so long a time I will be merciful. You will work as builders. The roof above the great hall is in need of repair and we will require that soon enough for a wedding feast. Start with the roof.” Father ordered. The squatters all thanked father for his mercy. It only seemed to be Ramsay and I that noticed the look of evil glee in his eyes. Ramsay turned to share the same look with me. I looked away, not willing myself to smile in the same way. “We will make camp within the walls.” Father declared. Almost immediately, men were running around erecting tents and building fires. The clouds were a pale grey that promised heavy snow and there was a biting chill in the air. _“Winter is coming.”_ The breeze whispered. I shivered at the Stark words. The walls of Winterfell suddenly seemed more ominous and uninviting than it had only moments ago. “Is all well m’lady?” Cole asked, has voice ridden with concern.  
“There are ghosts here.” I whispered, glancing up quickly at the ruined walls. The holes and crevices within them felt like eyes watching us, accusing us. “Come m’lady, we must get you warm.” Cole informed, picking me up again. I hadn’t realised how cold I was. As we were about to turn away, I glimpsed Reek still standing and looking up at the walls. He continued to twitch and shake as old memories filled his mind. His face was pained and he winced and cried out a little. He felt my eyes on him and turned towards me. He didn’t try to hide his pain. It was almost as though he thought I would understand him. I watched him scurry away after Ramsay and Jeyne. He did not look back at the broken walls and if he had had a tail, it would have been clamped between his legs as though the memories he had created there were now beating him away. Yes; there were most certainly ghosts in Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's sort of going to speed up from here. I'm struggling to think of much that can happen despite Ramsay and Jeyne's wedding etc. But I have planned the ending for around the time we leave Reek and Jeyne at the end of DWD.


	38. Liars and Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay visits Leila one last time before his wedding and Cole has a question to ask.

The building was finished quickly, the squatters feared what may happen to themselves if my father felt they had taken too long. It didn’t matter. Once the building work was done, and the castle deemed fit to live in by the Warden of the North, he hung each and every squatter. When questioned, he said he had treated them with mercy as he hadn’t stripped them of their skins. He hung the bodies up for a while; they swayed in the winter wind and I was reminded of another body that had swayed in a breeze created by cruelty and violence. We moved into the patched up great keep. I remembered Lady Catelyn once telling me that Winterfell had always been surprisingly warm; that hot springs ran through the walls, warming the castle. The pipe system was all broken up now. No hot springs ran through the walls, only cold winds and even colder whispers.

The night on the eve of Jeyne and Ramsay’s wedding seemed to be especially cold. In the evening, Lady Walda, Aunt Barbrey, Jeyne and I made final preparations for tomorrow, making sure everything was to run smoothly. Ramsay was off with his men, enjoying his last night as an unmarried man. Cole had been sent to go and help with setting up the Godswood, gritting the paths so that they were safe for the guests. I walked to my room and changed into my small clothes alone; after Myranda, I had not been trusted with another handmaid. I was combing my hair when I heard footsteps coming from outside the door. I placed the comb down onto the table and smiled at myself in the mirror. Cole must’ve finished early. Then I heard the footfalls come unevenly, as though someone was staggering down the hall. Moments later, Ramsay staggered drunkenly through the door. “Hello sweet sister.” He slurred. He closed the door and bolted it behind him. “Ramsay, what are you doing?” I asked, standing up and moving as far from him as possible.  
“What? You aren’t afraid of me are you?” He smiled, staggering closer.  
“No. I never am. Not anymore.” I said.  
“And that’s one of the things that I love about you. One of the many things…” He was right in front of me now. He sniffed at my hair and then my neck, I could smell the wine on his breath. He ran his hand down past my waist and hips. “Ramsay…we can’t…” I protested, stepping away from him.  
“Can’t what? You would deny me now? You confessed your love for me back at Moat Cailin remember? You killed my favourite bedwarmer because you were jealous of her, remember? You fell from your horse because you were riding to come to me…remember?” My mind couldn’t think straight with him so close to me. We had not been together since Moat Cailin. The monstrous desire reawakened inside of me. “No…no…I can’t.” I protested, my voice weak.  
“Yes…yes, you can. My sweet, sweet little sister…give in.” His words felt luxurious against my neck. His soft dark brown hair stroked my cheek; I ran my good hand through it, giving into the temptation as he sucked at my neck. He pushed me back against the rough stone wall, all the while trying to be careful of my broken arm. He lifted the night gown over my shoulders and cast it away. I wrapped my legs around him, our kisses deepened and I once again drowned the girl’s voice out. I would forget her, just for this one night. He carried me to my bed, my legs still wrapped around him. He took off his shirt and tore off his breeches as I laid down on the bed. He seemed to kiss every inch of my body; planting kisses on my hips and getting nearer and nearer to my cunt. I cried out as he slipped his tongue between my folds. Once he felt like I was wet enough there, he moved on top of me. I wrapped my legs around him again, moving my hips in time with his thrusts and encouraging him to drive deeper into me. He was clumsy from the drink so I rolled him over so that I was on top of him. He watched me with his ghost grey eyes, running his hands all over the contours of my body, studying my every move. We both cried out as we hit our climaxes. I rolled over so that I laid beside him once we were done. We were both now out of breath and sweaty. I moved closer to him, nuzzling at his neck and running my hand across his bare chest. “I will be a married man this time tomorrow.” He said sadly. I said nothing in reply. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating. “I don’t know if I want to be married.” He confessed. I looked up at him, startled. He watched me, his gaze almost sad. “You do not get a choice. Neither of us do.” I said.  
“I know. But I will miss being yours sister. As of tomorrow, I will have a wife.” He almost seemed to be talking to himself.  
“You said nothing would change. That it wouldn’t change us.” I reminded him.  
“That’s right, I did. And it won’t. We do not even have to be reminded that she is there. She can stay in her room. All I need her for is to breed sons from.” He said, smiling. I rested my head back on his chest and soon fell asleep, thinking his words were nothing more than drunken rambles.

I woke the next day with Ramsay on one side of me, and a familiar feeling of shame and guilt on the other. I woke him myself, shaking him gently. We dressed in silence. Ramsay left to break his fast first and I followed shortly after, taking a few minutes to compose myself before entering the great hall. I could not let Cole see anything on my face. He would know. He always knew. Though when I entered the newly refurbished great hall, Cole was nowhere to be found. I looked over to where the horses were all tied up and still could not find him there. Instead of going to sit at the high table, I went over to the horse lines and petted Arianne first. She had lost a little bit of weight and was beginning to shiver beneath her blanket. “I’m sorry girl, I’ll get them to feed you more and get you another rug.” I promised, scratching her between the eyes. She sighed gratefully. I turned and went and sat down. My father now sat in what had once been Eddard Stark’s chair, although he lounged in it as though he had been there all his life. Ramsay sat as always to his left. I had been demoted to sitting third in line on the right. First came Lady Walda, then Jeyne, then me. I ate nothing and drank a little. I looked down the table to see if Cole was serving down the far end, but my eyes only met Ramsay’s. He smiled at me, thinking it had been he that I had been seeking. I smiled back, not wishing to anger him on the day that was to be his wedding day. I quickly looked away once Jeyne noticed us smiling at one another. She was not the only one that had noticed. As I scanned the room further, I met Aunt Barbrey’s suspicious gaze. She looked to me, then to Ramsay and back to me again. I kept my eyes down after that.  
Once we had broken our fast, Father sent Jeyne and I, along with Lady Walda and Lady Dustin, to go and ready Jeyne for the wedding ceremony. I felt Ramsay’s eyes follow me as I left the Great Hall. I wasn’t sure if it was him or the cold that made me shiver.

The Godswood seemed warmer than any other part of Winterfell. _“It’s here to welcome its true lord’s home again, this warmth is not meant for me.”_ I thought. Father and Ramsay, as well as the lords and ladies of the houses that attended, had gone on ahead of me. It had been father’s orders for me to stay behind and come forth only when the bride was ready to be wed. In the trees above me, the ravens squawked and screamed. This was their home. They had been here longer than I had. When I looked around me I was forced to think of those that had once lived here. The Stark children must have played and prayed in these woods. They would all share memories of it. If I looked at the towers I was forced to wonder who had lived where. Which tower had the crippled one fallen from? “My lady.” Came a voice from behind me. I span around to face him. “Where on earth have you been?” I asked. Cole smiled smugly. “Making preparations. You’ll find out soon enough.” He said and offered me his arm. I looked at it warily. “I shouldn’t. Ramsay will see.” I muttered.  
“So what if he does? I am charged with helping you, and these paths are treacherous My Lady.” He smiled down at me as I placed my arm in the crook of his elbow. On hearing the sound of the doors opening behind us, and the light footsteps of Reek, dressed as Theon Greyjoy, and Jeyne, dressed as Lady Arya, we walked forwards, further into the Godswood. The mist swirled around us. Torches lit the way towards the heart tree. I could just about make out the faces of the people in attendance; Wyman Manderly, Big Walder and Little Walder Frey, Whoresbane Umber, Lady Dustin and my father as well as a few others. They watched us as we approached. Father raised his eyebrow at Cole but said nothing. I felt as though they were all whispering about me, their eyes accusing me of the crimes I had committed. I felt as though they all knew about Ramsay and I. They probably did. I felt completely numb and had to rely on Cole to lead me to stand where I had to be. I watched as Reek led Jeyne towards her fate. Ramsay stood waiting beneath the tree; the ravens squawked the truth above him. His voice silenced them. “Who comes?” He called. “Who comes before the God?” He sounded as though he were merely repeating the words that he had learnt.  
“Arya of House Stark comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” Theon asked, his voice a mummers farce. I felt as though I were watching a play. “Me,” Ramsay looked at the ground, not at Reek and Jeyne. “Ramsay of House Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort. I claim her. Who gives her?”  
“Theon of House Greyjoy who was her father’s ward.” Theon turned to face Jeyne. “Lady Arya, will you take this man?” Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Jeyne said nothing. Ramsay looked at me, and I at him. His look was longing, almost sad. “I take this man.” Came Jeyne’s whispered reply. Ramsay looked back to his bride and dutifully held out his hand. They knelt together before the tree, heads bowed in silent prayer. _“Do the Gods hear liars?”_ I asked myself. It was best not to know. The weirwood’s red eyes glared down at them. It knew. It saw the lie. Once their prayers were done, Ramsay and Jeyne stood. Ramsay unclipped the white and grey woollen cloak Jeyne had been wearing and replaced it with one that bore the flayed man of House Bolton. Before he could think twice about it, Ramsay scooped his bride up in his arms and carried her back along the path, his face grim and his eyes refusing to meet mine. The lords and ladies began to follow. Cole gently grasped my wrist. “Wait.” He whispered. I did, though I feared that he was going to admit that he knew I had been with Ramsay last night. Once the party could only be heard and not seen, Cole said “Walk with me.” He offered me his arm and I took it. He led me down a freshly cleared path. It had been lined with candles. I looked up at him and he smiled knowingly. He led me along until we came to a small clearing. He stopped and turned to face me. “Leila, I have nothing of material value. I have no gold, I have no real home, I have no title, I have no land. One thing I do have, is a never-ceasing love for you. You were everything I despised; you wished for blood and to kill. Yet I thank every God, every day, for sending you falling from your horse because of my brother’s trap. I would willingly give my life, as little as it may be, to save you. I give you my heart, my soul and my body for they are all I have.” His face was stern and serious. He knelt down in the dirt and looked up at me, fixing me with those green eyes. “They are not much and are worth nothing but they are all I can give you. With these things in mind, as well as the love I bear you, Leila Bolton… Would you do me the greatest honour of being my wife?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts?


	39. Violent Delights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila gives Cole her answer and the wedding feast, as well as the bedding takes place. Little does Lord Bolton know that there is more than one bedding.

I stared down at him, stunned into silence. I had expected accusations, not a proposal. He carried on looking up at me from where he knelt in the dirt, his sparkling green eyes begging for an answer. I held the smile back no longer. Tears burst from my eyes and ran down my cheeks. “Yes…Yes Colemon Smallwood, I will be your wife.” I spluttered. He smiled and finally stood from the ground. He kissed me deeply and I forgot about the cold, for inside I felt nothing but warmth. We wrapped our arms around each other. He lifted me and span me round. “When will we be married?” I asked as he placed me back onto the ground.  
“As soon as we can. But you must tell your father first.” Cole said, still smiling. I stepped away from him. “What?” My voice was a thin whisper.  
“I know he will not be happy about it, but it is the right thing to do Leila. It is our duty…”  
“Our duty? We do not have a duty to him, to no one but each other. If we tell my father he will flay you alive, perhaps with me alongside you!” I cried.    
“We do not have to tell him now. I can wait. Whenever you are ready. All I know is that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you beside me as my wife, but if we do not gain your father’s favour we will have to run for the rest of our lives. Our children will grow up living in fear that their grandfather, or worse, Ramsay, is hunting them down. Is that what you want?” He asked, grasping my shoulders tightly. I thought hard about it, realising that he was making sense. I did not want my children growing up in fear of Ramsay stepping on their shadows. I didn’t want them growing up knowing about Ramsay at all. “You are mad.” I mumbled, smiling.  
“I have to be, I’m marrying you.” He jested. He straightened up, switching to his helpful, serving boy persona. “Come my lady, may I escort you to the feast?” He asked, offering his arm.  
“Why thank you.” I replied, slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow. We hurried towards the great hall, where the noise of the wedding feast could be heard. “Serving boy, I wonder if you would be so kind as to visit my chambers after the feast. I will be in need of a fire when I return.” I said mockingly.  
“Of course, m’lady.” Was his reply.

We entered the hall separately when we reached it; I went first and Cole followed moments later. Jeyne had now moved to sit between Ramsay and my father and Lady Walda sat beside him. The only vacant chair that remained was next to Ramsay. The room was crowded, the men sat knee to knee and the aisles were filled with drunken men, serving boys and whores. They parted as I breezed past them, my smile genuine. “Sister! I have saved you a seat here, beside me!” Ramsay called, I could hear the drink on his voice. I looked to my father but his gaze did not meet mine. I had no other choice than to sit beside him. “And where have you been sister. This feast has been rather dull without your wit and pretty face.” Ramsay slurred. He pecked my cheek. I ignored it. “I merely wished to explore the Godswood further brother. It felt warmer there.” I admitted, taking a sip of wine.  
“It is warm in here. The lords have missed your company. Amidst the oncoming winter, you are a fruit ripe for the picking…” He said, leaning closer to me.  
“I am not a fruit brother, I am a woman. Lady Arya, may I congratulate you on your wedding. I have no doubt that you shall make my brother very happy.” I said the words indifferently, raising my goblet towards Jeyne. Ramsay fell silent and sat back in his chair. “I thank you Leila. I suppose I must call you sister now.” Jeyne’s words were meant to be light hearted, but with Ramsay between us, the warm words froze. Ramsay looked at me, as though he couldn’t decide if it was meant to insult him or if it was just a general statement. I smiled at him. My father stood from his chair and picked up his goblet, beginning to toast to Lady Arya. Everyone stopped to hear his words, father would not raise his voice to be heard. “In her children our two ancient houses will become as one, and the long enmity between Stark and Bolton will be ended.” Jeyne kept her eyes cast down, as did I. I sipped at my wine as I listened to the lies that poured from my father’s mouth. “I am sorry that our good friend Stannis has not seen fit to join us yet, as I know Ramsay had hoped to present his head to Lady Arya as a wedding gift.” I looked over at Ramsay who was smiling. No doubt he would have done so had Stannis reached our walls in time. “We shall give him a splendid welcome when he arrives, a welcome worthy of true northmen. Until that day, let us eat and drink and make merry…for winter is almost upon us, my friends, and many of us here shall not live to see the spring.” He finished. _“Oh, nicely done father. You do know how to celebrate.”_ I thought as the men cheered and laughed and the music struck up again. Considering that we were residing in a ruined castle and in the midst of heavy snow, there was plenty to feast on. Wyman Manderly had transported goods by boat. I ate plenty. Ramsay sat in silence, no doubt plotting the experiments he would conduct tonight with his new bride. I tried not to dwell on it. Every now and then I would catch the dazzling green eyes of my betrothed and we would smile at one another. He too was getting plenty to eat, and more. The washerwomen, or to be quite frank, whores, were drawn to him like moths to a flame. I understood that, as he was the best looking man in the room. Yet he had only eyes for me. He would brush the whores aside, much to their disappointment, and go to fill a knight’s goblet. I too was receiving my fair amount of attention. I found myself meeting several gazes as I observed the scene below. They would smile at first, and then they would allow their gaze to wonder…Father too had noticed their stares. I caught him watching a few exchanges. _“No father, waste no time in making plans. I have made my own already.”_ I thought.

Not long after Ramsay and Jeyne were spirited away to consummate their marriage, I too decided to retire once I noticed that Cole was no longer in the room. I kindly refused the offers and invitations to dance and ignored the whispers, no doubt many were gossiping about how I must be quite upset now that Ramsay was married. I cared not for their words and sniggers. They would know soon enough. Still, I hurried from the room, wishing to be in Cole’s arms as soon as I could. I almost ran to my room, flying through the door. A fire roared in the hearth and Cole stood beside it, adding another log. “The fire was only meant to be an excuse you know.” I jested, bolting the door shut behind me.  
“Well, how else are you to keep warm my lady?” He asked, standing.  
“I have my ways.” We moved towards each other.  
“And what ways might those be my lady?” He smiled. I grabbed his hand and led him to the bed, pushing him down onto it. “This way.” I smiled. He tore at my dress and I at his breeches and jerkin. We were no longer gentle with each other. Multiple times my bad arm was moved and pain shot up it, but that only seemed to make the moment more pleasurable. I began on top, he pulled me down and I crushed my lips against his. “No more pretences, I want you to treat me not as your lady, but as your wife.” I whispered.  
“Well, that makes you mine, you are my property now.” He growled, rolling over so that he was now on top. I cried out with pleasure, but my cry seemed to echo throughout the castle. Then it turned to a scream. We both stopped and were silent, yet the screams carried on. “Jeyne.” I whispered sadly, thinking of what she must be going through. The thought was only there momentarily. “Leila, look at me.” Cole ordered softly. I gazed into his green eyes. He placed his hands gently over my ears, muffling the sounds. “Don’t listen.” He whispered, leaning down for his lips to meet mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please no hate on Cole for wanting to tell Roose about how he and Leila plan to be married. Thanks for all your kind words and support, it's lovely to hear your thoughts on this story and its characters :)


	40. Bearable Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila uses a softer method of torture to gain information from Cole. A dead body is discovered amongst chaos and Leila confronts an old foe.

Cole and I continued to spend our nights together. To my relief, my course came and went, taking Ramsay’s seed away with it. Ramsay never came to me, he was busy with his new toy. I never saw Jeyne. Before we went in to dine for dinner one night, I asked him what had become of her. With a wicked smile, he reminded me of how he planned for things to remain the same. I thought his words had been nothing but drunken slurs. I had visited her once, when Ramsay had gone hunting. She had grown so small and frail, crumpled up within the soiled sheets. She had whimpered when she’d seen me, refusing to meet my gaze. “Seven hells, what has he done to you?” I had breathed. When I had tried to touch her, she had scurried away, begging me to leave, screaming that Ramsay would find out and punish her for having visitors. “Hush now, can you remember who you are? What is your name, your true name?” I had asked in a whisper. She had turned her face so her eyes met mine. They looked but they did not see. “My name is Jeyne.” She’d cried. “It rhymes with pain.” I had gone to father and begged him to help her. He refused to. Saying that she was Ramsay’s property now, and that as long as she was alive and fit to bear a son, he would do nothing. I had also appealed to Aunt Barbrey. She had said little; that it was bound to turn the Northmen against Ramsay, but there was no way to tame my brother. Cole had listened. “I know, my love, I know. I will help her.” He promised me in bed one night. “I have a plan.” He said.  
“And what plan might that be?” I asked.  
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He joked. I sighed, and then smiled, raising and eyebrow. “Do I have to torture the damn words out of you?” I threatened.  
“Oh no…I couldn’t possibly face any torture!” He laughed. I raised my eyebrow again and climbed on top of him. He still wore his breeches, but I moved my hips back and forth, straddling him. I laughed as I felt him harden beneath me. When he moved his hand down to unlace his breeches, I grabbed it, twisting it until he cried out in pain. “Now, tell me how you are going to help Jeyne?” I asked.  
“Your Bolton blood is running high tonight I see. I’ll never tell you! You’ll never break me!” He jested. I moved my hips quicker and laughed again when he bit down on his lip so hard he drew blood. “You give in?” I asked.  
“Yes…yes, I give in.” He gasped. I smiled, unlaced his breeches and relieved him of his urge. “Now, tell me of this plan of yours?” I questioned, still riding him hard.  
“The bard and his washerwomen, we…have an arrangement.” He gasped. I wrinkled my nose at the mention of the bard, Abel. I had taken a disliking to the man ever since he had changed the words of The Dornishman’s Wife to The Northman’s Daughter; I had heard the men and women laughing, saying that it was about me, and what my father would do if he ever found out about Ramsay. “And what arrangement is that?” I asked, breathing heavily.  
“They will help Jeyne escape.” He panted. I smiled and rolled off of him. “Thank you.” I muttered.  
“No, thank you.” He replied, getting up and drying himself.  
“You gave in easily.” I joked.  
“Well, your method of torture was very effective.” He said smiling. I laughed at him from the bed. Somewhere in the castle, I could hear Jeyne weeping. Cole hurried back to me; he knew how much I hated the sound. He drew me up into his arms and softly placed his hands over my ears to muffle the sound.

Tensions were rising amongst the ranks. The men were all ready for a fight and heavy snow had begun to fall, worsening the mood. It had fallen mercilessly. On top of that, men were being dug up dead. I woke in Cole’s arms to the sound of horses screaming below us in the stables. I sat bolt upright in bed and scrambled quickly to the window. Men were digging away at the stable roof that had caved in. Arianne was somewhere in those stables. I rushed around the room, quickly dressing so that I could go and make sure she was alright. “Leila?” Cole called groggily, wiping sleep from his eyes.  
“Cole, the stables have collapsed! Arianne is in there somewhere!” I cried, holding back tears. He jumped out of the bed and got dressed quickly, no longer tired. My broken arm had now healed and he grabbed my hand as we ran down to find out what was going on, but even he couldn’t keep up with me when we reached the courtyard. His protests sounded distant and I continued to run and leap through the deep snow. Ramsay had also left his toy for a time to find out what was going on. He turned on hearing Cole’s shouts. When I reached him, he grabbed me tightly around the waist to stop me, but I kicked and screamed at him, eventually resorting to biting his arm to escape his grasp. He cried out in pain but I was deaf to it, hearing only the screams of frightened horses. I ran into the stables, all the horses were wide eyed and nervous with fright. To my relief, the section of roofing that had collapsed was not where Arianne had been stabled. She paced anxiously as I entered her stable and bolted out of it as soon as I had put her halter on. I clung to the rope and she pulled me out into the carnage outside. “Leila, are you alright?” Cole ask, forgetting to use the courtesies that were expected of a serving boy.  
“Yes, we’re fine. Go and help the rest, please.” I begged, he nodded and ran into the stables, getting a few other boys to follow.  
“He’s well trained.” Ramsay growled, watching Cole leave.  
“Just doing his job brother. Where can I put my horse?” I asked, changing the subject.  
“They have prepared lines in the…” He was cut off by Sour Alyn.  
“My Lord, we’ve found a body, well several, but this one is different.” He informed nervously.  
“Different, in what way?” Asked Ramsay.  
“It’s…its Yellow Dick, my lord.” He said. Ramsay turned to me quickly. “The horse lines are being moved to the great hall, take your mare there. Sour Alyn, escort my sister to the horse lines, then to her chambers. It seems the castle is no longer safe for anyone.” Ramsay growled, striding off in a rage. I turned to Alyn and recalled when he had joined in when Ramsay had ordered his men to rape me. I fixed him with a stare that put him on edge. “Don’t look at me like that.” He snapped.  
“Like what?” I asked sweetly.  
“Like you…like you want…”  
“To kill you? What’s wrong with a little honesty?” I smiled and pranced away. I heard him follow me as he was ordered to do. Arianne kicked out at him and caught him in the shin. “Is there something wrong Alyn?” I asked, turning to address the problem.  
“No.” He grumbled. I laughed at him and continued on into the Great Hall. I spent ages making sure Arianne was comfortable, and to make sure Sour Alyn was freezing while he waited. Arianne had continued to lose weight, despite my orders that she be well fed. She also moved a little slower and shivered beneath her blanket. “Don’t worry girl, you’ll be warmer in here.” I promised. She didn’t reply this time, just allowed her head to droop. I left her there. She was exhausted from the trauma that night. Sour Alyn led the way to my chambers. “Should I be concerned that you know the way to my chambers Alyn?” I asked, my voice mocking.  
“There is no reason to be concerned my lady.” He replied bitterly.  
“Are you sure? You seemed quite eager to have your share of me with the others before. Perhaps you wanted another piece? Have you been spying on me Alyn?” My voice was seductive now. I knew that would irritate him. He span around and knocked me against the wall. “Listen here you little whore, if your brother knew what you’d been saying...he’d…”  
“He’d what? In case you have forgotten, my brother is rather fond of me. I have a better weapon then any of your swords or axes, I have a cunt, and unlike that night where I was dragged from my bed and raped by you and your friends, I know how to use it. Now why don’t you scurry back to your master like a good little bitch? Go on!” I urged. He continued to press me against the wall. “Is there a problem m’lady?” Came Cole’s voice. He strode down the hall towards Alyn and I. He stood beside Alyn, towering above him. “I think my lady gave you an order, ser.” Cole pointed out, his tone cool. Alyn looked as though he were ready to take a swing at him, but then took in Cole’s height and thought the better of it. “I bid you good night, my lady.” He growled before disappearing down the hall.  
“Sweet dreams Alyn.” I replied.  
“You should be careful of him Leila, it is not only Ramsay Alyn works for but your father also.” Cole said.  
“Sour Alyn does not concern me.” I shrugged. “Now…where were we?” I asked. Cole pushed me through my door and we began his favourite form of torture once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know not much happens in this chapter, but it's just a build up...not long until the end now! It is in sight!


	41. The Dice is Cast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila receives some news from her father, another body is found and Ramsay notices a new challenge that has arisen

My happiness grew alongside the growing racket of Stannis’s drums and horns. The threat of Stannis and his army had meant that father and Ramsay had been extremely busy. I was left alone and spent almost every moment with Cole. One day, when the snowfall had lessened, I made my decision. “I shall tell father today.” I told Cole whilst he laced up my jerkin.  
“Are you sure?” He asked.  
“Yes, I will do it after we have broken our fast. He is so preoccupied with plans for attack I doubt he will even take into account what I am saying.” I said with laughter in my voice.  
“I am glad. Do you wish for me to be with you when you tell him?”   
“I think it’s best if I do it. You may wait outside if you wish.” I suggested. He finished tying my laces and stood in front of me and kissed me deeply on the lips. “Shall I escort you to break your fast my lady?” His tone was mocking, his serving boy persona was back again.  
“Why thank you Colemon.” I replied, tucking my hand into the crook of his elbow.

The hall had now grown extremely crowded with the horses in there and the stench of it made me wonder how we actually managed to eat anything. Cole released me immediately to go see to the horses. I made my own way towards the dais where Ramsay and father were arguing over something. “Good morning father, Lady Walda, brother.” I said cheerfully.   
“Leila.” Replied father. That was unexpected. Ramsay sat in brooding silence. “Is there something wrong?” I asked looking from Ramsay to father.  
“Nothing, daughter. Is there Ramsay?” Father turned his cold eyes to Ramsay.  
“No.” Ramsay sulked, not meeting his gaze.  
“Then, why have you been silenced by my arrival?” I asked, not liking the tension at the table.  
“It is time that you, daughter, were wed.” Father announced bluntly.  
“Wed? To who?” I cried.  
“It is undecided. But I owe Walton many debts. A young, pretty wife seems a suitable reward.” He said, taking a sip of ale.  
“Walton? I cannot marry Walton.” I protested.  
“I told you she would not like it father.” Grumbled Ramsay.  
“You don’t seem too happy about the news either Ramsay, and why might that be?” Father asked, watching us both as we shuffled uncomfortably in our seats. Lady Walda looked on fearfully as Ramsay and father continued to argue. Just as I was about to protest to the proposal further, the doors of the great hall crashed open and Ser Hosteen Frey entered, carrying a body in his arms. The people in the hall fell silent at the gruesome sight. The horses however began to scream and thrash in their lines as the body was carried further into the hall. I tried to make out Arianne in the fray but I could not find her. Hosteen Frey carried the body towards us and I was able to identify it as being the body of Little Walder, my brother’s favourite squire. “My brother Merrett’s son.” Hosteen announced. He placed the body before us at the bottom of the dais. “Butchered like a hog and shoved beneath a snowbank. A _boy._ ” He said. I looked down at the body. I had never liked the boy, he had always tried to be like Ramsay, yet he had no inch of Bolton blood in his body. Ramsay went over to inspect the body and father stood from his chair. I didn’t listen to the exchange between, Ramsay, my father and the Frey’s; I was too busy watching the grooms struggling to control the horses in the horse lines. I heard several horses squeal and saw some of them lash out at each other but it became harder and harder to tell one from another and Arianne was hard to identify amongst the havoc. I was brought back to the subject of the dead body when I heard the drawing of a blade. Hosteen Frey lunged at Wyman Manderly, sword in hand; it seemed the fat lord was the one being blamed for the murder. Wyman Manderly tried to escape the blow as the sword flashed down through the air, but he was unable to get up in time. The sword came down and sliced his wobbling chins open. “Stop, _stop this madness_!” My father yelled. His men rushed forward into the carnage. It all happened in a rush of confusion. There was blood and cries from dying and wounded men. Suddenly, a sound could be heard above the racket. A horse screamed in pain. The sound cut through me like Hosteen’s sword had sliced through Manderly’s chins. Before I had even seen what horse was screaming, I knew. I stood from the table and ran, blind to the clash of swords and the blood and the bodies. I ran to the horse lines. Sure enough, my instinct had been right. A little away from the other panicking horses, Arianne laid on her side on the dirty, cold stone floor. A pool of blood was beginning to spread around her, it was unclear where from. She had obviously broken loose and tried to fight her way away from the others. She had continued to grow weak and thin. I walked towards her, kneeling in the dirt beside her and taking her great head in my lap. “Hush girl, you’ll be ok, we’ll fix you up.” I cooed, stroking her face. I allowed my eyes to wonder over her body, checking for any cuts. Her left front leg stuck out at an unnatural angle. When she tried to move it she screamed out again in pain. “Don’t try to move it Arianne, lie still.” I whispered. I could feel the tears gathering in my throat. I don’t know how long I was kneeling with her. I didn’t notice that the sounds of swords and wounded and dying men had been replaced by music. Suddenly, Ramsay and my father appeared at Arianne’s side. Cole eventually joined. He ran to Arianne and slid his hand down her leg. I already knew what he would say. “It’s broken, my lord.” He informed my father.  
“Very well.” Was father’s blunt reply. “Ramsay.” He was giving an order. As my father walked away, Ramsay drew his blade. “Ramsay…no! Please, you can’t!” I cried. Arianne began to scream and thrash when she sensed my distress. Ramsay did not look at me. “Men!” He called. What remained of his pack appeared it his side. Some held down Arianne’s limbs, another tore her head from my lap and roughly sat down on it, pinning it down as Arianne screamed for me in her terror. “No…Ramsay, you can’t…Please don’t do this!” I screamed at him. I rose from the dirt and threw myself at the arm that held the dagger. Ramsay struggled to release himself from my grip and resorted to a punch that sent me falling to the floor. I felt arms wrap around me and pull me away. I kicked and screamed as Cole dragged me away from the spot where Arianne was still fighting her last fight. Cole turned me so that I was facing him. “Leila, listen to me.” He ordered, I continued to fight him. “LISTEN TO ME!” He yelled, holding my face with his hands so I couldn’t turn away from him. “Leila, do not look. Do not hear, do you understand me?” He asked, placing his hands over my ears and cradling me against his chest. I didn’t need to see to know what was happening. I could imagine Ramsay raising his dagger, not even taking a pause before he drove it down into Arianne’s heart. Even Cole’s hands over my ears could not drown out the sound of Arianne’s final plea. Tears ran down my cheeks and I buried my face into his jerkin. I could hear nothing but his heartbeat.

_***_

_Ramsay turned to see his sister wrapped in the arms of the serving boy. Colemon, was it? The serving boy glared at Ramsay, fixing him with his deep green eyes. That was a big mistake on his part. Ramsay was already angry and the beast’s life had not been enough to cool his Bolton blood. “Take the body to the kitchens, it should do for tonight’s feast.” Ramsay snarled. As his men began to drag the body away, Leila turned to face him. Colemon could wait, he wanted to get his sister out of here first. He didn’t like it when she wept. “Sister, I think it best…” He tried to reach out to her, to comfort her, but she cowered away from his blood stained fingers. She fixed him with an icy glare. “Never touch me again.” She growled. Ramsay looked at Colemon who held him with the same cold gaze, as though he were of equal rank to do so. Ramsay readied his blade to scratch the eyes from the boy’s face. Leila noticed. “No.” She commanded frostily. “There will be no more bloodshed here today.” Her voice cracked mid-sentence. This was not the sister he knew. Ramsay realised that he had been gone too long. As he watched his sister walk away, a new game began to form in his head._

_***_


	42. The Final Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the final chapter, truth is revealed, blood is shed and hearts are broken.

I could hear my father’s footsteps echo down the cold halls towards his chambers. I stormed after him. “Leila, wait!” Cole called, running after me.  
“Wait for what Cole? To marry some man at my father’s bidding? For Ramsay to tire of his new toy and return to my bed? To sit at the dinner table and eat my own horse? No, I’m tired of waiting!” I exclaimed. I didn’t hesitate when I reached Father’s door. I burst through it. He didn’t turn to face me. “You cold hearted bastard.” I cried.  
“I beg your pardon daughter?” Father said, a little amused. Still he did not turn to look at me. “She was mine! It was not your choice to make.” I growled.  
“I take it we are talking about your mare. Her leg was broken, it would never have healed.”  
“I know that, but it wasn’t your order to give.”  
“Ramsay was the one who wielded the blade.” Father pointed out.  
“ _You_ gave him the order!” I screamed. Father paused. “Look at me!” I yelled. He did, though reluctant. “Tell me one thing. You left me behind with Ramsay. Tell me…did you know what he would do?” I asked, my voice a little quieter.  
“I had my suspicions.” Father replied.  
“Yet you left me anyway.” I spat.  
“I was trying to make you stronger.” He argued.  
“Make me stronger? I was torn from my bed in the middle of the night. I was raped by every single one of his men, the ones that work for you. And then Ramsay raped me himself. When he was done with me do you know what I thought of? I thought of you. I thought of you telling me how weak I was, how only evil wins, how I would never survive Ramsay. I would have willingly died at that moment. But Ramsay kept coming back to me. I always wondered if that was what you wanted for me. If it was what the price was for winning your approval was. And then I discovered that I carried Ramsay’s child in me. I ordered for it to be taken away. I would’ve gladly carved it out of my womb myself. But I continued to live. After that I discovered what it meant to be a Bolton; that you live for nothing but to cause fear and play games. If that is the price for being a Bolton father, if that is what you wanted of me, then I’ve paid my due. If you think I am weak then why am I still breathing?” I asked, tears choked me. Father glared at me, his eyes cold. He said nothing. “If I have disappointed you father, if I have shamed you, then you won’t have to suffer because of my presence any longer. I am betrothed. We will leave tonight. I don’t want your blessing, only your promise that we will be left to live in peace. Disinherit me if you wish. There is nothing left for me anyway.” I heard Cole move closer to me as my father’s cold eyes darkened.  
“You have accepted a marriage proposal without my consent?” He asked, his gaze flickered momentarily to Cole.  
“Yes, because of something you could never possibly understand.” I replied.  
“And what might that be?” He asked frostily.  
“Love.” I muttered, staring him dead in the eye. His face was unreadable, almost as though there was nothing behind it. “Go. If you want to chase fantasies of love and happiness, so be it. I’ll have them open the gates for you.” He said flatly. He turned away from me. I choked on a sob. My father didn’t even wish to fight for me to stay. “Come on Leila.” Cole whispered. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me away from the cold hearted man that had once been my father.

Cole helped me to stuff a few supplies into a bag. I sighed deeply to steady my breathing. “Are you alright?” Cole asked, swinging the sack onto his shoulder.  
“Let’s just get out of here. There is nothing left for me now but you.” I sniffed. He smiled wanly and held out his hand. I took it and smiled back. “I love you.” He said.  
“I love you too." I replied. He led the way down the halls, his hand still in mine. People that passed us looked but said nothing. A troop of guards ran past us and muttered something about washerwoman. We didn’t stop to ask questions. We hurried on down the halls and stairwells until we reached the courtyard. The sentries standing at the gates were my fathers and they were under his orders. As he had promised, the gates would be opened for us. We had almost reached the gate, walking as fast as we could across the snow, when a figure barred the small door set in the gate that led to our freedom. “Going somewhere sister?” Ramsay growled. We stopped two thirds across the courtyard but I could still see his eyes from here. He glared at us with a mixture of anger and betrayal. Beneath the icy depths of them, I could glimpse pain there too. “Leave us be Ramsay, we wish for no bloodshed.” Cole called, standing beside me and clasping my hand tightly.  
“I don’t remember asking you.” Ramsay replied, his eyes fixed on me. “I suspected you all along Colemon. I saw the way you looked at her and I should have killed you for it. But I thought she was better than that. You,” I looked into his hurt eyes. “You had me fooled.” His voice broke as he said the words. If he was able to cry I think he would have at that moment. “So sister, I have thought of another little game to educate you. You remember the last one don’t you? This time,” From behind his back, Ramsay drew out a crossbow. “We’ll see how much this lover of yours love’s you.” He smiled and raised the crossbow. But instead of aiming it at Cole, Ramsay aimed the arrow at my rapidly beating heart. Before I could utter a word, Ramsay pulled the trigger. The arrow sprang from its home. I let go of Cole’s hand and closed my eyes, waiting for the arrow to pierce my chest. The pain never came. I opened my eyes. Cole was standing in front of me. He smiled at me, and I smiled back, happy to be alive. Perhaps a wind had picked up and blown Ramsay’s arrow off course. Suddenly, I noticed blood bursting from Cole’s chest. I frowned at it. Cole’s knees gave way beneath him and he fell onto the soft snow, a pool of blood grew around him. “Leila,” He gasped. I fell beside him. His eyes looked up at me. I rolled him over and pulled the arrow from his back. As I heard him gasp my name again I began to cry softly. “Leila, don’t…Leila I’m scared.” He whispered.  
“Don’t be, it’s going to be alright.” I tried to comfort him, but the words didn’t hold any belief in them. He smiled. “I can always tell when you’re lying.” He rasped, his breath shallow.  
“You can’t die. You can’t die Cole, I need you!” I cried.  
“Shh…Leila…just hold me. I’ll always be with you.” I cradled him in my arms.  
“Your mother, she said I would know happiness but it would be taken from me. I knew. I’m sorry, I should never have…”  
“What do you have to be sorry for? Leila, I told you I would willingly die for you.” He whispered.  
“No, you can’t leave me! Please!” I begged.  
“Thank you, Leila Bolton, for falling from your horse that day. You are the love of my life. You are mine…”  
“And I am yours.” I finished. He smiled again. “Thank you, Cole Smallwood, for teaching me what it meant to feel loved.” I whispered. I kissed him gently on his soft lips. I felt his final breath rush past my cheek. When I pulled away, his deep green eyes were empty and unseeing. I began to shake and weep over his still body. “Well, he was predictable.” Came Ramsay’s voice. I looked up at him. “I win.” He said.  
“No. Not this time. I can’t play this game anymore Ramsay.” I cried.  
“There will be no more games sister, if you’ve learnt your lesson. Have you not learnt it yet? I killed the first one, Merryn, and now I’ve got rid of this one too. You’ll never be anyone else’s, you can only be mine.” He smiled at me. He seemed satisfied with that lesson. “No brother. This time, I’m going to play the game. My game.” I moved the arm that held the arrow that had pierced Cole’s heart. I raised the point so it hovered above my shattered heart. “I told you I wished for no more bloodshed. You ignored my wish. If I can’t be anyone else’s, I’ll never be yours.” Ramsay watched the arrow. I could see a hint of fear in his eyes. With my free hand, I grasped Cole’s limp hand. I stared Ramsay dead in the eye. “Leila, no…please!” He yelled.  
“I win.” I announced, smiling. When I felt the cold metal tip of the arrow pierce my heart, I closed my eyes and fell to lay beside Cole.

_***_

_When Roose found them, the bodies were almost as white as the snowflakes that fell. Ramsay sat there, as pale as the dead, and cradled Leila’s body in his arms. Her blood had soaked through his clothes. One of her white hands was loosely clasped around the arrow that had pierced her heart, the other rested in the hand of the corpse that lay beside her. There was a smile on her lips. Ramsay twitched and shivered, rocking back and forth over the body. Had he the ability to cry, he would have wept. He must’ve sensed that Roose was there, for he began to speak. “She wasn’t meant to die. That wasn’t part of the game. She should’ve learnt. SHE NEVER LEARNS!” The boy screamed. “She was mine. YOU WERE MINE!” Ramsay yelled at the body in his arms, but she remained unhearing and unseeing. Roose looked up into the cold, grey sky. The snowflakes that fell melted on his face, but he didn’t feel their cold touch. He looked around him. The men that had died in the great hall that morning were being piled up, not so far away, ready for burning. He looked back at the three bodies, two dead, one still living. “Burn the bodies.” Roose ordered coldly. Slowly, Ramsay turned to look up at him. “Father she is your daughter.” He protested, clasping the cold corpse protectively. Roose stared down at the dead girl. She seemed almost unrecognisable to him. “She is no daughter of mine.” He said coldly. Having given his orders, Roose turned on his heal and walked away from his son. When he reached the doors to the great keep, he peered over his shoulder. Ramsay had remained beside the bodies. Roose could see him shudder over the body and he could’ve sworn he heard the boy whimper. Roose smiled. “Well played Leila.” He muttered, watching the broken figure. “Well played.”_

_***_

**_"If you think this has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have supported me in this project, it all meant so much to me. I hope the final chapter doesn't disappoint! Please let me know what you think in the comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story so you'll have to forgive me if I've made any mistakes, it may take a while for me to get my bearings. I thought this story up a few days ago. It's a combination of both the books and the TV show. Please please don't flay me if I get anything wrong! I hope it's interesting enough for you to read and I'll try to put up the next chapter soon.


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